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Unpredictable

Page 12

by K. A. Berg


  Jordan’s eyes fill with understanding. He held my hand when no one else was there for me. He saw how being helpless and out of control affected me. He doesn’t say anything but pulls me in for a side hug as I tell him, “I just want to be happy again.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  QUINN

  I’VE GIVEN ALEX THE SPACE HE ASKED FOR, BUT WITH EACH little bit of time that goes by without us talking about this, I feel worse. Alex has ignored me in my own home for six days. I’m angry about being shut out by him, and I’m hurt.

  Alex has barely said anything to me. He’s said ‘goodnight’ the past two nights but said them after changing into his pajama pants and heading back to the living room instead of bed. Both nights I waited up to see if he came to bed.

  He didn’t.

  We’re moving in a week. This is not the way I want to start our life in the home we love. I don’t want to taint the walls with this mess.

  I try to alleviate my frustration with this between my trainer, Melvin, and me rather than let it stew while I wait for Alex to stop ignoring me. I’ve been on edge. I don’t want the next time Alex and I speak to be another fight so for the last few nights, I’ve spent my time at the gym kickboxing.

  I’m avoiding going home. Again.

  Today’s workout was good, longer and more intense than usual. My knuckles and shins are shouting their anger at me. It’s been a long while since I had any hard issues to work through at the gym. Melvin seemed to sense my need to go longer than usual. He kept me moving until I couldn’t go anymore.

  But I don’t know who or what exactly I was trying to beat out. Myself, the universe, or Alex. I know I shouldn’t be angry with him but why did he make me want this with him so bad?

  I was okay with never even thinking about kids. But then everyone around me started popping them out. Alex looks fine as hell with a baby in his arms, and the way he looks at me every time I hold one of our nieces or nephews makes my ovaries weep. Apparently just not enough.

  There’s a part of me angry with myself as well. Angry I’m not strong enough to endure waiting this out or even finding out if there’s an issue. It doesn’t mean I’ll consider changing my mind. There’s just something deep down inside of me not allowing me to believe, no matter what Alex or anyone else thinks— that this is meant for us.

  Shaking off those thoughts, I head to the last shower stall in the row and turn it on, setting the water to the highest temperature it’ll go. My sweat soaked clothing clings to my body as I peel it off piece by piece. The water is running super-hot as I step into the stream. My muscles immediately scream out in relief. If only I could soothe the rest of me with a hot shower.

  _______

  ALL THE TENSION I WORKED OUT AT THE GYM SEEPS BACK IN as I wait for the elevator to open on our floor. I have no idea if Alex is home or not. There is currently no true communication between the two of us. Last night he was at work until after nine. I assume he’s at work, but he could be anywhere doing anything with anyone for all I know.

  The hum of the TV fills my ears as I walk through the front door. Alex is sitting on the couch in plaid pajama pants, eating a sandwich and watching Sports Center. His eyes cut to me briefly as I enter the room. I watch his jaw as he chews the bite of sandwich and his focus goes back to the TV as he tosses a simple, “Hey,” over his shoulder.

  He greets me with the same greeting you’d give your roommate or frat brother. Not your wife. I try not to let it bother me as I make my way to our bedroom to change into my pajamas. I’m not sure what I was expecting when I got home today. Maybe that we would finally be ready to talk this all out? It’s eating me alive that he’s still refusing to talk to me.

  My footsteps echo down the hall as I stride back into the living room with purpose. This game of silence is childish and not how we handle problems. The longer this continues, the worse it’s going to get. We’re not on stable ground right now. We’re cracking and each day of ignoring our issue is just letting the cracks grow bigger and bigger. The ground is going to give and will eventually crumble, taking us down with it.

  “Alex?”

  His eyes linger on whatever segment is on TV for a moment before turning to me. “Yeah?” His flagrant disinterest in me is truly grating on my nerves at this point.

  “How long is the silent treatment going to last?” I ask point blank. “I get that you’re upset, and you need time, but not speaking to each other is counterproductive.”

  His shirtless frame leans forward, placing his dish on the coffee table. His chest expands as he takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment on purpose, Quinn. I’m trying to come to terms with your decision. I thought we were a team. I thought we made decisions about our future and our family together. But I guess not.”

  The green and brown in his hazel eyes swirl with sadness, hurt and hopelessness, as he stares at me, imploring me to grasp his feelings.

  “I’m truly sorry this is hurting you,” I say. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

  He hangs his head. “I know, but it doesn’t change anything. I thought our future was heading one way… toward a family. We hit a few bumps in the road, and instead of trying to work through them together, you got off the damn road completely. You won’t even discuss any of it. It hurts. I could get over you wanting something different, but what I’m having a hard time with is how you could make this decision without me. I run every major decision by you because that’s what marriage is about. You decided we were going to have a different future. Gave up on the one we were building, and I’m just supposed to be okay with it. Just supposed to get on board with your new idea of life. That’s going to take some time, Quinn.”

  I can’t ignore the zing of pain through my chest as Alex sits there with his head in his hands, not bothering to look at me after speaking so candidly. The room’s blanketed in the sadness radiating from him. A part of me feels like I need to suck it up and continue down this path so I can tell him it will all be okay, and he’ll have everything he’s ever wanted.

  I’ve lived my life doing what others wanted me to before, and I won’t do it again. I can’t sacrifice myself for someone else. Not even for Alex. It would kill me, in the end, to break myself down so much with no guarantee of even being able to give him what he so desperately wants.

  Knowing all I can do for him at this point is give him what he’s asking for, I turn and head back to my empty bed to once again fall asleep alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  QUINN

  TODAY WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A GREAT DAY. WE’RE CLOSING on our house, and I was so excited about this move. It was easy to fall deeply in love with our home. It has everything I ever wanted and everything I didn’t know I wanted. Alex and I spent weeks talking about all the things we were going to do when we got all moved in. We could now host parties and barbeques and picnics. Our kids would be able to have the most epic pool parties. God, I couldn’t wait for everything this house held for our future.

  Now… now I don’t know. All I see now is more space to allow us to better avoid each other.

  I enter the attorney’s office to sign the paperwork and get the keys to the house, hoping to see Alex. I texted him around ten this morning to confirm the time, but he never responded. It’s now two o’clock, our scheduled closing time, and he’s not here.

  After checking with the secretary, I take a seat and fire off a text to Alex asking where he is? This seems too irresponsible, and Alex wouldn’t miss this and not respond.

  Is he okay?

  Has something happened?

  Is he lying dead in a ditch somewhere?

  Why else would he miss this without letting me know?

  “Mrs. Taylor,” the secretary I checked in with says as she walks over, stopping in front of me. “They’re ready for you. If you’ll follow me…”

  I follow, truly hoping Alex is already in the conference room. We can’t close without him.

  The secreta
ry opens the door, and I see the only people in the room are my lawyer and the paralegal. Alex isn’t here. Where the hell is he?

  “Good afternoon, Quinn,” my attorney says. His paralegal smiles. “Hello, Mrs. Taylor.”

  “Hi,” I nod, wondering what’s going to happen next. I have no idea whether the sellers already signed on their end. Can we officially take possession without Alex’s signature? “My husband seems to be running a little late. I’m trying to get in touch with him to see how much longer he’s going to be.”

  Both of them look at me with confusion. “Mr. Conway was here this morning. He called yesterday to see if he could come in earlier. He’s already signed everything. I assumed you knew?”

  Of course, that’s a natural assumption. Why wouldn’t a wife know her husband wasn’t going to the closing? I can’t believe Alex would do something like this. How can he be so insensitive to my feelings?

  My cheeks heat as I nod. “Oh, that’s right, I guess it slipped my mind. There’s so much going on with the move and all.”

  Embarrassment. Frustration. Sadness. Hurt. It seems like my life is constantly in one of those states or multiple at the same time.

  “Okay,” he says and gestures to an empty chair at the table. “If you’ll have a seat, we’ll get started.”

  ______

  THE CONDO IS EMPTY, EVERYTHING IS PACKED AND ALREADY on the moving truck for delivery tomorrow, making the clicking of Alex unlocking the door echo loud and ominously as I sit on the kitchen counter drinking my wine.

  He walks in nonchalantly, as if today was just another casual day at the office. It makes me angry. “Are you that much of an ass that you couldn’t have the decency to let me know you weren’t going to be at the closing?”

  His eyes pop up from the mail in his hand. “I had a meeting. I called and changed my time with them. They knew.”

  “They knew?” I yell, hopping down from the counter and marching into the living room. “I didn’t. You couldn’t let me know you weren’t coming? You couldn’t answer my calls or texts? I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere. You never bothered to tell me you had to reschedule. What meeting was more important than closing on our home?”

  “I had to meet with the insurance agent to go over the different insurance policies I have to take out for Legacy.”

  “And you couldn’t do that a different day?” I grit out, annoyed at his refusal to see why this was wrong.

  He gives me an exasperated look as if my anger is a nuisance to him. “It’s just a house, Quinn.”

  Wow! It’s just a house… “This is our dream house. We’ve been excited about this move for months. How can you say that?”

  His eyes harden, and his shoulders stiffen. “It’s hard to get excited about a house we no longer need. Most of the plans we made are useless now. So, yes, Legacy’s meeting was more important. I still signed. We closed. It’s not a big deal.”

  My chest feels as though it was shot with a bowling ball hurled from a cannon. The move into this house has been what I thought would help bring us closer together, not push him further away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  QUINN

  “I’M HAVING FLASHBACKS FROM THE PAST,” ASHLEY SAYS IN A hushed voice as if Alex can hear her all the way downstairs. “Although I think this is more awkward. You guys still aren’t on speaking terms?”

  My fingers run across the gold embroidery on the plush white towel before I hang it over the towel bar and see how it looks. I’m trying to decide what pattern I want to go with for this bathroom. The painters finished painting yesterday, and now we’re going through the selections the interior designers sent over. “I’m out of things to say. It’s not like he’s truly listening to what I’m saying anyway. What can I do?”

  I’m still reeling from the closing. There’s nothing like walking out of what should have been something to celebrate with no one to celebrate with. This house was the house. The one you always dreamed of living your fantasy life in. We made plans for this house, and Alex doesn’t care anymore. It’s devastating.

  The sting hasn’t lessened in the two days that have passed. I can’t force Alex to get over his problem, but I’m starting to feel more hurt with each passing day. As a couple, Alex and I decided if this became too much for me, I could call it quits. I told him I was afraid of failing. He promised, assured me, that at the end of the journey, no matter how it ended, nothing would change the way he loved me. Only everything between us is changing.

  Ashley glares at me, giving me a look that screams she doesn’t agree with what I’m saying. “You can talk to him, you know. That’s how communication works. Someone has to break the ice, Quinn.”

  My face hardens as I think of the last time I tried to talk to him. “I have,” I say through gritted teeth. “Why does it seem like you think this whole thing is my fault? Alex is the one who’s acting like an ass. He promised me one thing and went back on his word. I, on the other hand, kept true to mine. I tried. No one can say I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t say I thought this was your fault,” Ashley says, grabbing another patterned towel. “I think both of you are wrong. He’s wrong for shutting you out, and you’re wrong for not letting him know exactly how you felt before you made a huge decision. But what does it matter who is wrong? What matters is how you guys fix it. Ignoring each other isn’t going to fix anything. Talking to him even if you don’t think he’s listening is better than shrugging your shoulders and doing nothing.”

  “Every time we talk it seems to make it worse,” I say with a huff. “What good is that doing?”

  “Eventually,” she says, “something will make him see the wrong in his behavior, and he’ll apologize. Same for you. You never know when that day will come. If you guys continue to sit in your anger, you’re not allowing the opportunity for anything to change. At least maintaining an effort to try and fix things will give each of you some hope.”

  Hope.

  I hate that fucking word.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  ALEX

  THESE SEATS SUCK. I STAND AND LEAN MY HEAD BACK AGAINST the wall and wait for the doctor to come back out to let me know about our running back who broke his ankle in the third quarter of tonight’s game.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see Tanner’s name on the screen. “Hello?”

  “How’s he doing?” he asks.

  I sigh and head over to the coffee station in the corner of the waiting room. “He’s still back with the doctors. They’re getting another set of scans from a different angle. It’s looking like he’s going to need surgery to set it and repair the ligament and tendon damage. It’s a mess.”

  “Shit,” he hisses. “It’s late; are they sending him to Florida tonight or tomorrow?” The team works with one of the top orthopedic surgeons in the country. Dr. McMahon is down in Jacksonville.

  “Tonight,” I say as I pop the coffee pod in the machine and press brew. I’ve still got a long night ahead of me. It’s already after eleven. We’re not going to get there until around three am. “We’re planning on heading down as soon as they release him here. We need to get down there before it starts to reset.”

  “We?” he asks. “You’re going down too? Where’s Dr. Jack?”

  Dr. Jack Feldman is the team’s head physician. He is usually the one to accompany players when they need to travel for treatment. But it’s Monday and Thanksgiving is this week. “If he goes, he’s going to miss the holiday with his grandkids. I know he was excited to be home this year. I offered to take his place. I can start aligning a treatment course for him while down there, and Jack doesn’t miss Thanksgiving.”

  The line is quiet for a few moments. “What’s really going on, Alex?”

  What a loaded question. Only, I don’t have a good answer. My hands run through my hair, tucking it behind my ear. “I think I just need a few days away right now. Working on something I can fix. My life seems to be a bit of a wreck and some alone time will help
me sort through things.”

  “Things like what?” he asks.

  I pour some sugar into my coffee and stir. “My feelings about the last month of my life. One minute I’m upset, then I’m confused, then I’m mad. Part of me wants to reach out and hold Quinn to make everything better, but then I remember she’s the reason for the hurt and I get pissed again. I look at her, and for a moment, she’s my wife until the pain rolls in, the darker emotions win out, and I can’t stand the sight of her.”

  Tanner just listens on the other side of the phone. “I feel like we’ve been thrown back in time and are right back at the beginning. Quinn is making decisions for the both of us based on how she feels and what she’s afraid of. I’m the last to know, and I don’t get a say in anything. All this does is ruin us. It’s as if it’s part of a vicious cycle. Happy. Scared. Sabotage. Silence. Repeat. Only this time I don’t know if I’ve got enough left in me to fix us. I just need some time away. The last thing I need is to do or say something to make this worse.”

  “It sucks every which way you look at it,” Tanner laments after a few moments. “Unless you’re considering divorce, she’s made the decision, and there’s nothing you can do. But even after everything you’ve been through, I can’t imagine this will be the thing to break you.”

  I shake my head even though he can’t see because I’m not so sure. “I feel betrayed. Like she went behind my back. And before you say it, no I'm not just being an asshole because this didn’t end the way I wanted. It all stems from Quinn making a decision affecting our lives without talking to me. We’re supposed to be a team. We’re supposed to discuss things. She doesn’t get to decide something this big, and that’s it.”

 

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