Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 42745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Oh, he tells me he loves me and that we’re okay, but we’re not. And no matter how many times I ask him, he won’t tell me what’s really going on.
The party continues around us, and eventually everyone starts to mingle. I don’t say anything to Penn as I stand up and rush out of the room. I know Skyler will understand, and I can’t sit here for one more minute.
I let out a shaky breath as I step outside the restaurant and walk toward my car. I’m reaching for the door handle when I hear Penn behind me. “Aria, wait up. What’s wrong?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. The last thing I want to do is start crying in the parking lot.
When I finally turn to face my husband, I can’t keep the pain out of my voice. “Did you really just ask me that?”
Penn opens his mouth, but whatever he planned to say doesn’t come out. He just stands there staring at me, and somehow that makes everything hurt worse.
I grip the open car door because it feels like the only thing holding me up. “What do you want me to say, Penn? It’s nothing you haven’t heard before. You won’t talk to me. You won’t tell me what’s happening between us, and until you’re willing to really talk to me, we’re never going to fix this.”
My chest is heaving by the time I finish, and I hate that I sound desperate. I’m standing in front of the man I married, begging him to let me into a life I thought we were supposed to be building together.
He’s not angry. He doesn’t look confused or surprised either. He looks guilty.
That one look stops me.
Until this moment, I think part of me had still been making excuses for him. He is busy, and he’s important. Penn saves lives, and of course that means there are times he can’t be there the way I need him to be. I kept telling myself I was imagining the distance between us.
Maybe I was asking too much, but looking at him now, with his jaw tight and his eyes filled with guilt, I know.
There really is something wrong between us. Penn is hiding something from me.
And the worst part is, I’m not sure I want to know what it is.
I press my lips together and stare at my husband. He doesn’t try to explain or smooth things over. The guilt on his face stays there, and it feels like a punch to my stomach.
“I need to go,” I tell him.
He covers the hand I have clenched around the door handle with his. “Aria, wait.”
I pull away and cross my arms over my chest. All I can do is stare at him and wait.
When he doesn’t say anything, I lift my shoulders. “Well? I’m waiting. You want to do this here, Penn?” I gesture toward the doors we just walked out of. “I’m sure if we wait much longer, your family will come out here, and we can air all our dirty laundry.”
He lets out a breath. “Are you going home?”
I just stare at him.
Penn touches my chin, trying to get me to look at him. “I’ll follow you home, and we’ll talk about it there.”
I pull away from his touch. “Are you going to tell me what you’re hiding from me?”
He goes still. For a second, I think he’s going to deny it. I almost wish he would. Or that he would tell me that I’m wrong or making something out of nothing.
Instead, he takes a step back and folds his arms over his chest. “No,” he says, his voice rough. “I can’t.”
My mouth drops open, but nothing comes out. There it is. This thing I’ve felt for months isn’t my imagination.
He shakes his head, pain on his face. “Aria, please.”
There’s so much hurt in my voice I can’t even hide it. “So you admit it? You are hiding something from me?”
“Please,” he says again, and this time it sounds like he’s begging. But he isn’t begging me to understand, he’s begging me not to ask.
I move back and sit down in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel with both hands because I need something solid to hold on to. Penn leans down, one hand braced on the open door, and I turn my face away as I wipe a tear from my cheek.
“Leave me alone, Penn. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“Aria.” His voice drops. “You’re in no shape to drive.”
I stare through the windshield because if I look at him, I’m afraid I’ll break all over again.
He reaches for me, his hand touching my shoulder gently, and I tense beneath his touch.“Let me take you home,” he says. “I won’t say a word. You don’t have to talk to me. You don’t even have to look at me. But I can’t let you drive like this.”