Page 43 of The Marriage Rebound

I leaned down so I was eye to eye with her and placed my hands on her shoulders. I wanted to make sure I had her full attention for the next words out of my mouth. “You dancing was never an embarrassment for me. If I’d had a problem with who you were, and what you did, I wouldn’t have put a ring on it.”

Sasha shifted her weight from side to side and bit the corner of her lip before she blew out a hard exhale while rolling her eyes. “That sounds all well and good, Courtney, but my parents—”

“I’m not your damn parents,” I said, throwing my hands in the air as I started pacing. “I get it, you started as a dig at them, but that ain’t got shit to do with me and how I view what you did. And hell, if it’ll make you happy, go back. I’m sure Viv would take you. Then you’d have something to do and you wouldn’t be needing to be up under me all the damn time.”

Her eyes widened and the liquid sloshed in the glass as it came to an abrupt stop before reaching her mouth. “Is that really what you think of me? Of course it is, because you’re always trying to get away from me. Just. Like. Them.” She swallowed the rest of her drink while glaring at me over the rim.

A merry-go-round of bullshit.

I scrubbed my hands down my face. “For fuck’s sake, Sash, you don’t hear shit I say. I’m working to keep you in the life of luxury, not looking for reasons to ‘get away from you.’ What don’t you get about that? I love you, Sasha, I do. I really, really do, but I can’t be everything for you.”

I walked over to the living room and dropped onto the couch and rested my head on the cushion. “It’s like I am sitting on the beach digging the hole as the tide’s coming in, and every time I try to scoop the water out, more fills it. It’s just like an endless endeavor, because I don’t know what you need from me to make you happy, and no matter how much I give you, you want more.”

She came to stand in front of me, her eyes shimmering, and I knew she was on the brink of tears, and it made me feel like shit. But it needed to be said. We needed a change. For better or worse, we needed a change.

“It’s the one thing you can’t seem to give me or don’t want to give me. Is it so much to ask that I want someone to love me as much as Gomez loved Morticia? Why is that such a hard thing to fathom? Why can’t I have that? Why don’t you think I deserve that? Why can’t I have you?”

Her voice cracked on the last part. A single tear rolled down her cheek, followed by a second, then a third. Sasha wasn’t usually a crier, so she angrily swiped at each traitorous drop. Emotions were high for both of us, but I suspected hers were more so due to the drinking.

I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and gently pulled her to sit next to me. She slid her hand into mine and kept her focus down. The fight seemed to be draining out of both of us. There was so much in her statement, in her heartfelt words. They were laced with a pain and sadness that I understood, considering her upbringing.

And the last thing I wanted was to hurt her. To make her feel unloved or undeserving of anything. It was clear somewhere along the line we had a catastrophic disconnect because she didn’t seem to understand I was loving her with everything I had. And not getting the same energy back in return. She had me. She had my all.

“My parents, they aren’t the best. They were, and remain, too wrapped up in themselves, which left little to no space for me and Mya. But one thing that always remained true about them is that nothing, no matter what, not even their children, was going to get in between them. They were ride or die for each other. And I want that.”

I lifted her chin to make eye contact. “My team won the championship, Sasha, and to this day you haven’t told me congratulations. Do you know how much that guts me? To not have your wife acknowledge the biggest moment of your career?”

She blinked slow, then turned away. I blew out a breath, taking a moment before continuing. “So it goes both ways. I also want someone who’s going to love me, be there for me, be ride or die for me, like Morticia is for Gomez. It works both ways.”

Chapter 17

Sasha

Mornin’,” I said to Mya as I entered the kitchen. Vuitton hopped off the couch to greet me.

She sat at the island, scrolling through her phone. “Hey.”

She looked a little uneasy. I guess us having an argument in front of her would put her in a little bit of an awkward position, especially after what I’d said. It’s not that I had any ill will toward Mya or how Courtney took care of her. The way Courtney cared for her sister was truly admirable, and one of the things I loved about her. She was deeply loyal to the people around her; I just wished that her attention wasn’t always so divided.

The overcast day fit my mood and helped my head because I couldn’t deal with too much brightness. It was taking every-thing in me not to turn off the lights Mya had on. I didn’t have a full marching band going off, but the drumline beating a steady rhythm was enough.

“You need me to fix you somethin’ to eat?”

She shook her head. “No, I made a bagel and had some orange juice.”

“Okay, I should feed you then, boy.”

“Oh, I already did.”

“And he ate?”

“Yeah.” She stretched out the word. “Was I not supposed to? He was whining, and I didn’t know when y’all would be up, so—”

I bent to pick up Vuitton, snuggling him close. Was I losing him too? “No, no. It’s fine. Thank you. He just usually only eats if I’m down here. It just means he really loves his Auntie Mya.” I smiled at her and she returned it with an awkward one of her own.

There was an awkward silence hanging in the air. Mya and I didn’t always have to talk, but this felt different. Tense. After washing my hands, I went about fixing my breakfast while trying to work up the courage to clear the air. Mya was family, mine and Courtney’s, and for my words to have implied she wasn’t despite that never being my intention was shitty.

“Have you seen your sister?” I asked as I put an English muffin in the toaster.