Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“I’m telling you the truth. I took my eye off the ball, thinking the company would manage the building and not make decisions they were never given permission to do. I know you don’t want to hear explanations from me, but please, I beg you to give me the chance to clear this up.”
She turns back abruptly, hitting me with a glare that could melt ice. “I’m not one of your clients, Baylor, or some woman you’ve picked up for the night.” Her tongue is sharp and poised to deepen the wound, causing me to brace for what’s coming next. Though I deserve to hear it. I deserve to feel the cuts. I want them if she doesn’t have to go through it. She crosses her arms over her chest again as if she needs something to hold. “Your bullshit doesn’t fly with me.”
The accusation breaks the dam. Pointing at the floor, I grit, “I don’t bullshit my clients, and no other woman interests me. Only you. It’s only been you since the first time I walked through that door.”
Throwing her arms up, she rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, it doesn’t matter. Those women don’t, but I thought I did. I’m your wife who stood with you and said I do. I betrayed myself for believing I was different.” Her tears spill over the levee of her lower lids as her voice cracks. “You still chose to lie to me like I wasn’t.”
“I didn’t lie about the rent.”
“You lied about the building. You lied about the bet. If lying is your love language, I want no part of it.” Her anger wanes, curling her shoulders forward as if the weight is unbearable. “I thought you cared about me.”
My insides are shredded, but seeing her in so much pain rips my heart out. “I do. I care about you more than anything.”
“Your actions show otherwise.” Her tone turns self-righteous as she raises her chin, removing the privilege of her gaze. “What am I supposed to believe? Your words or your actions because they don’t align.” She starts for the bedroom, but I cut her off. I’m not going to fight with her with a door between us.
“Don’t walk away with this unresolved.”
“It’s resolved. You made sure of it.” She turns away from me, her gaze darting to the door like she’s going to outmaneuver a former quarterback. But then she says, “Please move, Baylor.”
Reasoning doesn’t work, and the spiraling drags us further apart in this argument. I’m not leaving until we’ve said all there is to say. “No. I’m not letting you walk away this time.”
That glare strikes like wildfire, ready to burn me to the ground. “Let me?” Her hand plants on her hip, a sign that I really fucked up this time. “Married or not, you don’t get to decide what I do or don’t. I don’t need your permission to leave. I can walk away anytime I please.”
She doesn’t move. Despite the threat, she holds her ground, not showing an ounce of weakness. She’s stunning in her independence, making me wonder if she’ll ever let me back in. “Don’t you see? That’s what you do. You walk away when you feel the slightest discomfort.”
“Discomfort?” She scoffs at me.
Not deterred, I say, “You leave—”
“To save myself the pain of being abandoned by you. We both know it will happen sooner or later, so I protect myself from . . .” She closes her mouth just before crossing a line we both know might be a step too far to come back from.
It doesn’t need to be said out loud. Although I already know the ending, that doesn’t lessen the damage done. “From me?”
The fire in her eyes doesn’t burn as bright as it did, and another emotion gets its footing. It’s not as harsh, but it’s still not forgiving. I don’t recognize who she is, and I’m starting to believe that I may not be able to save us. If we can’t talk, we have nothing left to give.
Because I need to hear it, I place the final nail for her to hammer home, and ask again, “Are you protecting yourself from me, Lauralee?”
Her hand falls to her side as the other fidgets with the hem of her shirt. Shifting her weight, her eyes stay focused on the floor between us. She whispers, “I’m protecting myself from everyone.” She finally looks at me. “If I leave first, I can’t blame anyone else. It makes it a lot easier to sleep at night knowing I broke my own heart instead of placing the blame elsewhere.”
“Who hurt you?”
“Please.” Stifling a sob, she rubs her brow in a sudden motion. I think it’s to hide her eyes so I don’t see the tears, though I can hear them in her voice. “It’s not important.”