Apologies

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Nick's POV

God, I am such an asshole. Why did I leave like that? I just slammed the door and walked out. I didn't even give Spencer a chance to talk. About ten minutes after I left, I knew I had made a huge mistake. But I needed to cool off.

I drove around town for a little while and then decided to go to the next town over to stop at McDonald's. So here I am, sitting in my truck with a burger and fries and a chocolate milk shake, dwelling on our argument and why I left like I did. God, I am a fucking idiot.

I honestly don't know why I left. We had been arguing the past few days because Spencer wanted to walk around and do some light work outside. Her doctor did clear her but something in my mind kept yelling no. I didn't want her around the animals.

I just want to keep her safe.

I can do that if she stays inside and does light housework. I never want to see her injured like she was again. I failed to protect her. I wasn't about to fail again. I guess keeping her in the house was my way of doing that.

Now that I'm alone and dwelling on my actions, I can see how stir-crazy Spencer has been. She had been commenting on increasing what she does for a week or two now but only recently did she really start arguing with me about it. I pushed her too far. I was scared and frustrated and reacted badly. I hate myself right now. Spencer doesn't deserve this; she has already been through so much.

I shouldn't be controlling her. That's not what a supportive spouse does. And now I'm sitting alone in another town, wishing I was with her. Wishing I was strong enough to control my own emotions. My fear for keeping her safe came through as anger and I let it get the best of me.

She does not deserve that.

She's the light in my life. The past few weeks have been amazing. I moved in almost completely. I share her bed and her room. She even made half the closet mine. We parent Jayden together, always checking with one another about how we think things should go. We are a family. Just like I've always wanted.

I belong with them.

Knowing I spent long enough cooling off, I head home to talk with Spencer. I needed to apologize and do whatever I can to make it up to her. We need to talk about everything, and I need to explain my actions.

My stomach drops when I drive up the driveway and don't see her car. The house lights are off. Shit, where did she go?

As I unlock the door, I can hear my phone chiming. Only then, did I realize I forgot it.

Fuck. Spencer has probably been trying to reach me. What is wrong with me? I'm a 30-year-old man who had a full blown tantrum.

Shit. Spencer must be worried sick.

I check it, fully expecting Spencer to be blowing up my phone asking where I was and if I was okay. I am going to have so much ass kissing to do.

My stomach plummets to my feet and my face pales seeing the messages on my screen. Instead of my amazing girlfriend, I see a vile demon.

Shit. Fucking bitch.

Lucinda.

There were like 5 messages. The last two made me want to punch something.

Why aren't you texting back?

Baby?

I wanna fuck.

Who is the slut you're with on your Facebook page?! You know no one can match up to me!

I clench the phone in my hand, trying not to break it into bits and pieces. I immediately block her number and delete the messages. But not before realizing the first one was sent about ten minutes after I left.

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