Chapter 8

“Martha, I…” Paul swallowed past the lump in his throat and forced out the words. “I am deeply sorry for what I said today. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t. I don’t know…I don’t know what demon possessed me.”

Martha continued to look at him, as if she expected him to continue speaking. Paul didn’t know what else to say. He had come to apologize, that was all. But she didn’t even blink.

“I…don’t want you to leave,” he finally admitted. He walked to the bed, kneeling beside it, but not touching her. “When I thought…when I heard the gun, I thought you were gone. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you.”

She continued to look at him passively, her face not betraying a hint of emotion. What magic words was she waiting for? Would she want a declaration of love? That didn’t seem Martha’s style, and she probably wouldn’t believe him either. But what could he offer?

“I don’t want you to leave. I want to be your husband.”