Page 60 of Easy On Me

At the end of day, I drove back to the house, grateful to find the carport empty. Of course, he was in a field somewhere. Work didn’t stop because our marriage had.

Inside, I cut through the spotless kitchen and living room, almost running down the hall to the master bedroom. I hadn’t changed anything there since the night we’d first slept together, other than to move my clothes in, but we’d talked about redecorating. I was glad now that we had focused on the baby’s room first.

It was easier to walk out of a room that had never really been mine.

Flinging open the closet, I grabbed as many of my clothes as I could, draping them over my arm. I marched to the bedroom next door, across from the baby's room and shoved the clothing in the closet. The room was quiet and dim, an old-fashioned white bedspread on the queen bed, its fringe brushing the floor, a quilt folded over the rocking chair in the corner.

I went back for another load and another, and when the closet was empty, I lugged my clothes from the dresser drawers and shoved them into the smaller dresser here. While I was gathering my things from the master bathroom, the back door slammed and his footsteps – muffled by his thick socks because he left his boots outside by the back door – thudded through the kitchen.

“Tyler?” His voice, hoarse with relief, rang through the house.

Clutching my makeup bag, I sucked in a steadying breath, shoved every soft and sweet thing I’d ever felt for him deep, deep down, and squared my shoulders.

He was home, but I wasn’t. I never would be home here again.

Chapter Seventeen

Jase

She was home.

When I’d first slowed for the driveway and spotted her SUV under the carport, relief crashed through me, followed by a wave of paralyzing fear.

What if she didn’t stay?

What if she was only grabbing her stuff and leaving me for good?

Resisting the urge to block in her vehicle because I would not be that guy, I parked in my spot and scrambled from the truck, anxiety making every movement jerky. At the steps, I fumbled off my boots, my gut tied in heavy knots. Once inside, I pulled the door shut too hard.

Her purse lay on the table, key fob next to it.

Please, please, let her be home for good.

“Tyler?” Hell, saying her name hurt. I needed her to stay, for us to be okay.

No answer, and I jogged through the living room and down the hall to our room. The door to the guest room was open, light spilling into the hallway, but all I cared about was getting to her.

She wasn’t in our room, so I strode to the bathroom, the lights on in there, too. Breathing hard, and not from the jog down the hall, I rested my palms on the doorframe. “Hey.”

Clutching her makeup bag and piling her straightening iron on top, she didn’t respond, although the sidelong glance she gave me was almost an eye roll. Her toiletries lay scattered over the countertop, and I frowned, stomach dropping.

“What are you doing?” I dug my fingers into the doorframe. Was she packing up and leaving?

She didn’t speak, completely shut off from me. The loss of our connection, the way she’d looked at me when I came home every day before this clusterfuck, soft and happy to see me, rolled nausea through me.

Fucking Elizabeth stopping her birth control so her dress would look better. Not telling me when we’d agreed not to risk a pregnancy until we’d been married a couple of years.

We’d agreed.

She only cared about herself, what she wanted.

Holy hell, what kind of mother would she be?

Terror sent dread skating down my spine, but I clamped down on the spiral. Giving into fear wouldn’t help me. I’d cross that later. Right now, I had bigger problems – like my wife leaving me.

Tyler’s eyes narrowed. “You’re thinking about her.”

“How pissed I am.” I dragged a hand through my hair. At least she was talking to me, although her voice rang rusty and clipped. “How I don’t want this.”