Page 53 of The Clifftop Cottage

She was waiting for it.

But she wouldn’t speak first.

He wanted this conversation. He could be the one to start it.

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” he said quietly.

“I know.” Leah muttered, reaching for a biscuit. “Seven a.m., before the traffic starts.”

Dylan nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. He glanced at her, then away again.

“Look, Leah …” He exhaled, rubbing his palms together. “We’ve been dancing around this for a while. Something isn’t right.”

“Everything’s fine.” She lifted her eyebrows, daring him to argue and for a moment she almost believed it herself.

Dylan shook his head. “Every time I come home, I feel like you’re further away.”

She sighed, staring at the steam rising from her tea. “You’re gone for a long time, Dylan.”

“I know. But that’s the life we live. I’ve always worked offshore.”

Leah shrugged. She had no energy for this. Not now, maybe not ever. Even the chocolate biscuit wasn’t helping.

Dylan leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “You’re not happy.”

“I am happy.”

“You’re not,” he pushed. “Something’s off, and it’s getting glaringly obvious. You don’t even let me touch you anymore.”

Leah let out a sharp laugh, more disbelief than humour. “Oh, so that’s it? You’re not getting enough sex? Is that what this is about?” Her mug hit the table with a dull clink. “Well, I’m sorry I don’t have time between work and raising our child to roll out the red carpet for you.”

“That’s not fair,” Dylan said, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t say that. Don’t twist my words.”

She let out a slow breath, but the irritation was still crawling under her skin.

“You used to love this life,” he said quietly. “Our home. Our family. But now … you just seem angry all the time.”

Leah’s head snapped up. “And you think that’s just me? Like I woke up one day and decided to feel like this?”

Her voice was measured, but there was an edge to it, something she couldn’t quite soften.

Dylan held her gaze, something unreadable flickering across his face.

Leah inhaled slowly, pressing her hands together in her lap. There were two people in this relationship. But lately, it felt like they were living in completely different worlds.

“I’m doing my bit for this family,” Dylan said, exhaustion lacing his words. “I’m out earning, working long hours, then when I come home, you make me feel …” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “In the way.”

Leah turned to him, tilting her head. “We’re both out earning, working long hours. You don’t seem to value what I do either.”

“I do, but … you don’t have to. With my income, you could take a break, relax a bit.” He said it carefully, as if testing the waters.

Leah let out a short laugh, though there was no humour in it. “You think I can be a woman of leisure?” Her fingers tapped absently against the arm of the couch. “We’re still paying off all that debt, Dylan.”

“I know. But we’re getting there.”

“Yes, by living in a small house and both of us working.”

Dylan sighed. “Look, what do you want? You told me you love our home, that you’re happy at work … I don’t get it. Why are we always at odds?”