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He backs up from the counter and gestures into the empty living room. “Speaking of which, where is the famous movie collection?”
My eyes fall. “Eh, I had to dwindle it down a little over the years.”
Shame settles in my gut as Boxcar wanders into the corner and peeks into the old box.
“Is this what’s left of it?” he asks, bending down to sift through it.
“Yeah.”
He winces. “You dwindled down a little more than a bit, Cal.”
“Things have been kind of tight lately.” I push off the refrigerator and step lightly into the living room. “You know, we should probably focus on—”
Boxcar stands up quickly and faces me. “How long have you lived here?”
“I don’t know. A while. Why?”
His eyes take in his surroundings a little deeper and my chest clenches. “It doesn’t really look like it,” he says. “It looks like you just moved in.”
“I’ve been busy,” I say. “Interior decorating hasn’t really been on my list of priorities. Can we please talk about something else? Maybe the deadly assassins on their way here to torture us both?”
“No.”
“No?”
Boxcar steps forward, drawing so close to me I can just barely smell him. My nose erupts, filling my head with old memories I fought long and hard to forget about.
“I want to know what’s going on with you,” he says.
I take a step back. “Since when?”
“Caleb, I’m your husband.”
“No. Do not throw the H-word around like it means something. That’s not how this is going to work.”
“It does mean something,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “I’ve always cared about you—”
“Oh, please—”
“You’re the one who kicked me out, remember?” he argues. “I didn’t just pack up and leave you.”
“You didn’t exactly fight to stay either, did you?”
“Would it have mattered?” he asks. “I highly doubt it would have made a difference to you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Seemed pretty true three days later when I was served with divorce papers, Caleb.”
“Please, Box…” I sigh from exhaustion. “Can we not?”
He shifts on his feet, taking a few steps away from me with his head down. Boxcar has always worn his feelings on his sleeve and right now is no different.
“No.” The urgency in his tone shoots up my spine. “Caleb, I know about your situation here. I want to help you.”
I grit my teeth, breathing deep to calm the anger brewing inside. “I don’t need anyone’s help.”
“You don’t have to act strong, Caleb,” he says. “Not for me.”
