Taking it All by Maya Banks

louder than words, a token “I love you” from time to time. He’d taken advantage of
her
love and he’d put her second, maybe even third or fourth on his priorities, a fact that shamed him to his soul and a mistake that would likely haunt him for the rest of his life.

FIVE

    DAWN filtered through the window treatments of Chessy and Tate’s bedroom and Tate sat in the sitting area, all decorated with Chessy’s loving hand and eye for detail. She’d made their house more than just a residence, a place to exist. She’d made it a comfortable home that immediately made him feel at ease the minute he walked through the door after a long day at work. Because it had
her
stamped all over it. Every piece of furniture. Every decoration, picture. All of it represented her. Just being in one of the rooms she’d decorated was like having her presence there even when she herself wasn’t in the room, and it had always comforted Tate.
    More than that, just coming home to her was the best part of his day. And yet he hadn’t let her know that in a long time. He’d assumed she knew. And assumptions had gotten him into huge trouble.
    He left their bedroom with purpose, having been up all night thinking of the best line of attack. It was the wrong word but this was most certainly going to be a battle. He’d be a fool not to think it would be the biggest battle of his life and so he’d planned accordingly.
    He tiptoed down the hall and silently cracked the door of the guest room to peek in on Chessy. He saw her in bed, the covers kicked off and tangled at her feet as if she’d slept restlessly. He let his gaze travel up her body to her face, which was turned his way, and winced at her tear-ravaged face. Jesus, she had cried herself to sleep, if she’d slept at all until recently.
    There were definite shadows under her eyes, bruises against her pale, beautiful skin.
    Silently, he retreated, heading for the kitchen to make breakfast, the first in his plan of “attack,” for lack of a better word to use. Wooing? Courting her again? Making her feel loved and special to him? Yeah, all of that.
    Normally he’d serve her breakfast in bed, but she wasn’t in
their
bed. And he didn’t want her hiding there the entire day, refusing to face him, their marriage, and refusing to save it, because damn it, he wasn’t giving up without one hell of a fight.
    It was game on, and he’d had the better part of the night to reflect on all his mistakes. He planned to start rectifying them now.
    He quickly cooked breakfast, her favorite. A cream cheese bagel with scrambled eggs topped with cheese and skillet- fried ham all piled on the bagel to make a supreme breakfast.
    He made himself one as well even though he wasn’t remotely hungry, but he wanted a semblance of normalcy when he went to get her out of bed. She’d likely resist but it was time for him to take back the reins and right their relationship in the only way he knew how. Reassert his dominance, something he’d failed miserably on for a long damn time. He just hoped to hell he wasn’t too late.
    Not wanting the food to chill, he set their plates at the breakfast nook and quickly walked down the hall to the guest bedroom. When he eased the door open, he saw that she was awake but staring dully out the window, her gaze unfocused and tired, deep bruises underneath her eyes.
    â€œChessy,” he said softly.
    She blinked and turned her gaze to him, obviously surprised to see him standing there.
    He walked into the bedroom and over to the bed, sitting on the edge close to where she lay. He trailed one hand through the loose curls that were in disarray over the pillow.
    â€œI’ve made breakfast for us and then we need to talk. Get up. Don’t bother getting dressed. Just come into the kitchen so we can eat.”
    He inserted firmness into his tone and her eyes widened at his obvious command.
    She