by K. A. Berg
“She’s scared,” he says as if I didn’t already know. “Quinn makes awful decisions when she’s scared. You’re the only one who has ever been able to get through to her.”
It’s not so easy this time. “This is a marriage. One person doesn’t get to make the decisions, and the other one follows. She’s not the boss, and I’m not her employee.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, man,” he sighs. “Ignoring her and harboring all this anger isn’t the man you are. You’ve lost her once. Can you live with losing her again?”
It’s a good question. “I don’t know. Right now, I think some distance will help. I’m actually going to move up the timeline of Legacy. Start interviews. I need something else to focus on… something else to think about.”
“Do what you’ve got to do,” he advises. “But don’t let this continue on like this much longer. You guys need to start trying to fix things.”
The doctor treating Donovan makes his way down the hall, and I let Tanner go. “Doc’s coming. Talk to you later.”
I meet him halfway and wait for the news. “He’s going to need surgery.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
QUINN
AROUND TEN O’CLOCK, I LAID DOWN ON THE COUCH IN THE family room next to the garage so I could hear Alex when he came in. I don’t always hear everything from my bedroom in the back of the house. Just after midnight, I hear the rumbles of the garage door then Alex hurries inside, dropping his duffle bag on the floor after closing it.
I sit up, alerting him I’m here. He stops for a moment, looking at me with an expression of surprise before giving me the head nod guys give to the one person in the group they can’t stand but can’t punch in the face. He doesn’t give me a second thought as he crosses the room and heads toward the stairs.
I follow Alex upstairs, annoyed he couldn’t bother to tell me how the player who got injured is doing. This new colder side of Alex is unknown to me, and I’ve got no clue what to expect.
“Hey,” I call out just before he closes the door to the guest bedroom he’s been staying in. As Alex pauses, his hand still on the doorknob, I catch a glimpse of the room. There’s a new bedroom set filling the room that I’ve never seen before.
We never even discussed what we were going to officially do with this room, and he went out and bought furniture for it. I guess he plans on staying in here for a while.
Our eyes meet for a brief moment before he leaves the door open, heading into the room. “Hey,” he says, basically ignoring me as he goes to the dresser and starts pulling out clothes from the drawers.
“When did you buy furniture?” I ask as he moves to the closet.
He emerges from the closet, still acting as if my presence is an inconvenience for him, with a suitcase in his hand. “Last week.” He doesn’t even give me a second thought as he places the luggage on his new bed. No explanation for why he’s packing. He completely ignores me. His actions simultaneously puncture my heart and fuel the fire inside me.
What the hell is wrong with us? This is not the way we do things. He’s pushing me away. I would know. I mastered the art of pushing people away years ago. The man in front of me is not my husband. The man I married would never turn his back on me like this.
The steadiness of voice my shocks me as I decide enough is enough. Steady is everything I’m not feeling at the moment. “You promised.”
His head whips back around, his face covered in a look of disgust as though the thought of him giving me anything is the most repulsive thing he’s ever heard. “Promised what?”
It takes every single modicum of strength I possess not to let the tears fall. Blinking rapidly, I fight back the stinging urge to let them free. Not with this Alex. This Alex will use anything I say against me. My voice is soft, almost wistful, but still miraculously steady. “You promised this wouldn’t change us.”
Alex lets out a scoff. He pins me with his fiery hazel eyes. The usually bright green glow burns deeper, darker inside them now. “Yeah, well, you promised me you’d talk to me if it got to be too much. We’d take a break and see how things went. But that didn’t happen either. You decided to change your mind. I did, too. So, I guess we’re both liars.”
My heart hammers in my chest. The vein in my neck throbs with my erratic heartbeat as I hold Alex’s glare, not willing to be the first to look away. Except, I still see the suitcase on the bed. Alex rests his hands on it, drawing further attention to it. Is this the first step? Is he leaving the house? Or me?
“I did talk to you.” So many times, I tried to tell him what I was going through. What I was feeling. But he only heard what he wanted to here. “You didn’t listen to me. So only one of us is a liar. As well as a coward.”
There’s so much lurking just under the surface of my poised exterior, ready to boil over and erupt. Hurt. Anger. Sadness. And for the first time, fear. I never thought he would leave me, and I can’t escape the feeling that’s what’s being set in motion this very moment… the beginning of the end.
Alex glares at me hard. His body straightens up to his full six-foot frame. His shoulders back, chest forward. His fingers curl into fists, and his chest rises with a deep breath. His voice is cold as ice. “Coward? I’m the coward?”
I nod my head at the suitcase, finally breaking eye-contact. “You’re the one leaving. I’m not the one who’s bailing out because shit got hard.”
“You did run. The minute the road got a little tough, you bailed. Me… I’m not running,” he answers with a little less hostility in his voice. “I’m working. I have to fly out with Donovan to meet Dr. McMahon. I’ll be back at the end of the week.”
“Why you?” I ask. “Usually Dr. Jack goes with them.”
“I volunteered. I need space, Quinn.” He pauses a moment, his body losing some of the rigidity it’s been holding, but this still isn’t my Alex. This is still a stranger in front of me. The less harsh tone of his voice not fooling me. “We need space.”
“You’re wrong. I didn’t run from you when everything was festering inside me. I didn’t push you away.”
He heads back to the closet, returning with a few items for his suitcase. “But didn’t you? You hid away in the bathroom and locked me out. Only wanting to talk when you were ready. Although, it wasn’t talking, was it?” A sharpness slowly returns to his voice with each word passing his lips. “It was you telling me you’ve made this decision and it was final.” He flings back the top of the suitcase, then tosses in the clothes in his hands. “Whether I liked it or not.” His eyes return to mine, the same fiery glow as before front and center for me to see. “I’m pretty sure I’m entitled to some time to myself to work through this.”
Before I can even get the chance to point out I’ve been giving him space, he silences me with words of refute as if he can read my mind. “I need time to wrap my head around everything. Being in this house is suffocating. I need to get away for a few days. Now if you don’t mind, I have a flight to catch and a bag to pack. Close the door on your way out.”
He turns his back to me, yet again, and disappears into the closet. After standing there for a minute, completely shocked by these turns of events, I leave the room. It’s clear Alex can’t get far enough away from me. Having a man like Alex so close to you yet so disturbingly far away has got to be the most awful feeling in the world. It’s crippling to go from having all his love and attention to… this. I have no idea what this is exactly but it fucking sucks.
Pain slices through my very soul and I want to be alone as it all leaks out.
How the hell did we get here?
How the hell can it be fixed?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
QUINN
THE TEARS FLOW FREELY DOWN MY FACE AS THE THREE BELLS ring at the end of It’s A Wonderful Life. I watch this movie every year, but I guess watching it sad and alone in my bed is far different than watching it when everything in life is going right.
Everything about the holidays sucks this year.
I didn’t even bother putting up a Christmas tree. There was no one to share any holiday joy within this house, and it would just be a painful reminder of how drastically everything around me has changed.
The void between Alex and me is like a cancer doubling in size the longer we go without speaking. It’s been what feels like an eternity since any positive interaction has occurred between the two of us. If I’m not avoiding him, he’s avoiding me. It’s like we’ve gone back in time eight years and are doing everything in our powers not be in the same room together.
I fucking hate it.
Alex has been working his ass off getting everything lined up for opening Legacy’s, and I’m happy for him. I truly am, but that feeling doesn’t overshadow how left behind I feel. He’s using the center as a way to distance himself from me, and I feel absent from this journey. One we started together.
In the beginning, I was so happy to see how this unfolded for Alex. I knew without a doubt it was going to be fantastic and successful. I was happy to be along for the ride. Now, every time I think about it, my heart aches a little.
Worming my way further under the covers, I pull them up to my chin and wait for my emotions to settle down. How much longer am I supposed to do this? How do I continue going on living like this when I know this isn’t what I want? I do not want a loveless marriage. What I want is what I had a year ago. My great life with a thriving business and husband who loved me unconditionally. A life I was happy to come home to.
Not this.
Definitely not this…
The sound of the doorbell scares the hell out of me as it chimes. It chimes again and again as I make my way down the hall and the stairs.
“Christ, I’m coming,” I shout halfway down the stairs. “Stop ringing the damn bell.”
I fling the door open, ready to tell off whoever is on the other side of it. The three smiling faces of my friends greet me.
All I wanted to do today was lie in bed and watch Christmas movies about couples finding their happily ever after during the holidays. Call me a masochist. Having my friends come over while I’m wearing my shitty sweats, no makeup, and an un-brushed knot on the top of my head was not part of the plan.
Ashley, Hailey, and Tiffany walk right in as if it’s their home too. “Yeah, sure. Come on in.”
“Go get dressed,” Ashley says, unwinding her scarf from around her neck. “And maybe comb your hair.”
My eyes narrow, and I shake my head. “Why? I have no intention of going anywhere today. At all.”
Hailey bounces on her toes as a large, enthusiastic smile splits her face. “Oh, come on, Quinn. Don’t be like this. We have a day planned, and I think you’re going to love it.”
Her eyes bounce over to Ashley and Tiff, and all three of them nod their heads. “Guys, I really don’t feel like doing anything today. I just want to lay in bed and binge watch some movies while I eat a bunch of takeout that’s really no good for me.”
“You’ve been doing that for weeks,” Tiffany says as she removes her hat and gloves. “Plus, you already promised to take part in this weekend’s festivities months ago.”
“Huh?” I did?
Tiffany nods. “It’s Ashley’s birthday weekend. We planned to do the whole Christmas experience this weekend, remember? We talked this out a while ago.”
I forgot Ashley’s birthday. “I’m so sorry, sweets. I’m a shitty friend.”
Ashley smiles as if she’s not the least bit upset. “It’s okay. You can make it up to me by going upstairs and getting dressed so we can head out.”
Forty-five minutes later, we pull into a tree farm. The beautiful wreaths hanging on the large metal archway showcasing the farm name catch my eye as the glittered red ribbons blow in the wind. “What are we doing?” I ask as we drive down the dirt road leading to the parking at the back.
“Picking out the decorations for your dream Christmas,” Ashley says with a jovial tone.
Shopping for a Christmas tree is the last thing I want to do. “Guys…”
“Nope,” Tiffany shakes her head beside me. “Don’t bother. We’re doing this. We’ve got to get you snapped out of this funk, sweetie.”
Hailey turns from the passenger seat and looks back at me. “You couldn’t stop talking about how excited you were to do the new house up, right? After your offer was accepted, you spent over an hour telling us how you wanted to decorate.”
She’s right. I’d been more than excited about decorating the house. I wanted to do three different tree set-ups. A giant wreath at the top of the house. Garland throughout the porch. It would have been the perfect way for Alex and me to spend our first Christmas in our new home, but now that we aren’t even speaking…. it all seems pointless.
Ashley’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “The decorating crew will be at the house in two hours with all your choices, and the farm is going to deliver the tree for us as well. You have no excuses. You wouldn’t want to make me sad for my birthday, would you?”
How the hell am I supposed to counter that argument?
_____
THE HOUSE LOOKS EXACTLY AS I PICTURED IT IN MY HEAD. MY friends are damn good listeners because the décor people brought everything I said I wanted. The lights in the windows shine bright, making me smile for the first time in weeks.
Hailey comes into the family room where they’ve just finished getting the last tree up. She’s carrying a tray of mugs, marshmallows, and chocolate.
“Is this the intervention part of the program?” I ask, sensing something more coming. No one mentioned babies or Alex through the day. But I know my friends, and they are worried about me. I’ve been waiting for someone to start it all day. But I really don’t want to talk about any of it. Simply because it’s hard for them to understand why I’ve made the choices I’ve made. The plus side… at least we’re all together, and I’ll only have to try to explain only once.
Tiff laughs as she reaches forward and grabs a mug from the tray. “I guess you could say that.”
My chest rises as I inhale deeply and tuck my feet under me, settling in on the couch. “I’m fine, guys. I promise. I even had fun today.”
Hailey smiles. “We’re glad.”
“But that’s not really what we want to talk to you about,” Tiffany says, blowing into her mug.
“Then what?” I ask.
Ashley’s the first to speak. “We’re all just trying to understand what’s going on with you and how we can help. You said you wanted to stop trying because it was consuming your life and becoming too much. But now you and Alex aren’t even speaking. Has anything gotten any better? I haven’t even seen him here all day? You traded one form of misery for another.”
I sigh. “No, it hasn’t gotten any better. My life feels flipped upside down. I’m sad and lonely, but Alex is still accepting our new reality and interactions between us lately are more counterproductive than anything else, so he spends most of his time working or working at Legacy.”
“If you’re still unhappy why not start with taking a break first and see if your feelings change? Can it hurt?” Hailey asks sincerely.
I shake my head. “But I don’t want to try anymore. If this were meant to be for us, it would have happened already.”
“I don’t understand all this, ‘Not meant to be stuff,’ you keep telling us,” Tiff says as she hands me the last remaining mug on the tray. “What makes you think that?”
I shrug my shoulders. “What’s not to get? If I was meant to have kids, I would have had them already. I tried. It didn’t happen. Therefore, it’s not meant to be.”
Tiffany shakes her head. “But that doesn’t make any sense to me. Was I not meant to be a mom because I didn’t get pregnant and birth a child? What about Candace?”
“Absolutely not,” I say emphatically. “You’re a great mother. So is Candace.”
Ashley sits forward in her seat. “What about me? I lost my first child. Does that mean I shouldn’t have any children at all? Did losi
ng Daniel mean I wasn’t supposed to be a mother?”
“Of course not,” I say.
“Then why does any of this mean you shouldn’t be one?”
Because it’s not the same. “The situations are completely different, guys. Ashley, you always wanted children. You got pregnant. Why would the car accident mean you weren’t meant to have kids? It was an accident. Me, on the other hand, I didn’t always want kids. That desire only came after watching your families grow. I haven’t gotten pregnant in a year. Those are obviously signs this just wasn’t in the cards for me.”
“Candace and I waited over a year, getting nothing from any adoption agency before we switched to fostering. Does that mean we should have given up instead of trying a different avenue?” Tiffany asks.
“Of course, not,” I counter. “But I also didn’t see you two heading to any fertility clinics signing up for procedure after procedure with no guarantee you’d get a child at the end.”
“Because we wanted to help a child who was already here and needed a home,” she says. “It wasn’t out of fear but because we wanted to do it a different way. But who knows, if we hadn’t gotten Mikey, we may have gone down that road. We still could if we wanted to. We weren’t closed off to the idea, it was just at the bottom of the list. Are you considering the idea?”
I take a sip of the hot chocolate and wrap my hands fully around the mug, letting it warm them. “I was at first,” I tell them. “Then I couldn’t stop thinking about the things that could go wrong. What if the eggs didn’t take. What if I miscarried? All it seemed to do was add the possibility of more heartbreak and pain.”
Hailey reaches from beside me and grips my hand. “Honey, all you are now is heartbroken and sad. We’re just trying to figure out what difference it made since you’re miserable anyway?”
