Me: You’re not old enough to know.
Isaiah: Fuck it. Between you and Dad I’ll never know what to do
Me: You’ll learn. *wink*
Now I’m in a slightly better mood.
Myslightlybettermooddoesn’t last all day.
No, bits and pieces of it chip away every time I go inside to help with the feedings and diaper changes. My wife may as well have taken a fucking knife to my heart because every time she ignores me, it cuts into me.
So after a stilted lunch, I’m not surprised at all when she takes Ana from her bouncer and walks stiffly back to the room, Toto at her heels. She fucking stole my dog from me right along with my daughter.
Calmly wiping my mouth with a napkin, I scoot my chair back and lean down to Eli. God, this baby puts a smile on my face with how he can’t stay fucking still. No, his little arms and legs are always on the go. I switch off the vibration and unbuckle the straps. “C’mere here, little boy.”
Just as I lift him to my shoulder, Rosanna comes back, head down so we don’t accidentally make eye contact. When she doesn’t see Eli in his bouncer, her eyes fly straight to the baby I’m holding. “Go get Ana,” I tell her.
She stalls, lifting a hand to her chest and rubbing her collarbone.
“We’re going outside for some fresh air. It’s too pretty of a day to be cooped up inside.” My statement earns me a twist of her lips, but her legs turn around and slowly take her back to the bedroom. I wish she would fucking argue with me. Anything but this wall of silence between us.
When she appears again, it’s with my little princess in her arms and two blankets. She hands me one without a word as I open the front door. Outside, at least, the sounds of nature will fill the void between us.
Rosanna makes a beeline for one of the gliders, presumably intent on claiming one furthest from me, but stops short when she notices there’s only one glider on the porch.
One big enough for the two of us as we hold our children.
If she asked me, I’d plainly tell her that I stashed all the single-seaters in the workshop. And if she’d have lifted her head when we were eating, she’d have noticed that only the couch remains in the family room. She may not want to speak to me, but she sure as fuck is gonna sit next to me.
But she doesn’t say a word. And as she haltingly sits in this one glider, breath hitching as I sink down beside her, I make another vow.
A silent vow.
One more day, Rosanna.
That’s all you get.
Chapter twenty-five
Rosanna
One night later
It’sbeenanotherdayvery similar to yesterday. One where I hide away in the bedroom with the babies and lick my wounds. But now Ana and Eli are finally sleeping, so I grab my nightclothes and head for the bathroom, rushing past Connor and locking the door behind me. I’m still not speaking to him. My heart won’t let me.
My body, though... That fucking slut betrays me. Every time I wake up for all the feedings, I’m touching him. Snuggling his arm to my chest. Tangling my fingers in his hair. Wrapping myself around him as though nothing’s changed. And every time I try to sneak away, he throws his leg over me and tells me I’m not going anyfuckingwhere—something that should sound more ominous and threatening than it does.
He gave me my phone back yesterday morning, but it doesn’t matter. He knows I have no one to call. No one from my family gives two shits about me, and he hasn’t technically done anything that would warrant a call to the police. Not really. He hasn’t verbally abused me. Nor has he beaten me.
No, his crime is one of loving me.
I do have one ally. Toto—my loyal doggy friend who barely left my side today, even when one or both of the twins begin to cry. No, he just gave a long-suffering sigh and rolled his mournful brown eyes to me, as if resigned to his fate. Bagheera? He tends to run and hide during any crying sessions. Too much for his ears, I suppose.
Subconsciously rubbing a tender spot on my left breast, I push my emotions back down and run water for a long, relaxing bath. Towel, clothes, and lotion all wait in a stack next to the tub. If only it were cooler, I’d wear my comfortable cat onesie, but it’d be too hot and a bit more difficult to feed the babies.
I look at everything I’ve lined up for my bath, feeling like I’m missing—oh, yes. Bath salts. “And they would be...where’d I freaking put them?”
I don’t know what’s worse—the fact that I have brain fog, or the fact that IknowI have brain fog. It sucks either way. Sighing, I hunch down to look under the sink. There it is, the little fucker. All the way at the back. I reach my arm past the cleaning supplies, and when I raise up with a grunt, I almost drop the container.
