Page 51 of Merging Wright

“I haven’t lied to you.” His voice rises while his forehead furrows.

I huff. “Omission is a lie of sorts.” We glare at one another and suddenly, we’re discussing two different topics. Only we aren’t discussing anything. He hasn’t told me about his past, and I’m over this present conversation. I stand, tossing the notebook to the cushions.

With his spread legs engulfing the narrow space between the couch and table, Mach doesn’t move, so my knees knock into his. For half a second, I think he’ll grab my hips and force me back to the sofa. He’ll tell me about this mysterious first wife and what she meant to him. Maybe he’ll even press me against the cushions, kiss me hard, and tell me how important I am to him.

Then I laugh at myself.

He proved our night meant nothing the morning after our wedding. He hasn’t intimately touched me in days, confirming his position.

All we have is an arrangement.

I don’t know why I keep hoping things will change. Too tired to argue with him, I simply tip my chin when he doesn’t offer any response to me standing before him. “I’m going to bed.”

Our bedroom is the last place I want to be, but it might be the safest place in the house. My husband definitely won’t touch me in there.

25

Playlist: “Hey Brother” - Avicii

[Mach]

Jane isn’t a door-slammer. The soft click of our bedroom door is almost worse. She’s so angry, so distant, and I don’t blame her.

This is all on me.

I scrub both hands over my face. Despite the trim from Landon the other day, I could already use another one. Or maybe I need someone to talk to.

“Love is hard.” Ma’s voice travels into the front room. She leans against the edge of the wide entrance, holding a mug. Eyeing me over the rim, she sips.

Saying I’m sorry feels harder.

Earlier, I’d followed Jane to the old gazebo when I noticed her walking in that direction. Hoping we could talk, I wanted to apologize. For my behavior at the bar. For my accusations about Ripley. I’d misunderstood the situation and I wasn’t giving Jane the credit she deserved. The respect she deserves. She wants a partnership at Impact, and I need to come clean with the truth.

However, when I saw her with that child—Willow—my steps faltered.

Jane had been tender toward the little girl. Her actions reminded me there is so much I don’t know about Jane. On our wedding night, I’d foolishly entered her several times without protection. I didn’t know if Jane wanted children. Despite her age, she could still get pregnant. If anything, I was worried about the risk to her. Still, my thoughts dappled with images of Jane and a small swell on her belly.

Knowing kids were never in the cards for me, I popped the picture.

But I wanted the practice involved in making babies. I want to have sex with my wife, and I was fucking everything up.

I tip my chin at Ma, needing something strong to calm my racing heart. “Got something hot in there?”

She sheepishly smiles. “I might have something just for you.” She tilts her head toward the hallway. “Follow me.”

When I enter the kitchen, Ma is already seated with three fingers of scotch in a glass jar set opposite her on the table. I miss crystal tumblers, but the old canning jar reminds me of days working beside Ma to make pickles and preserve tomatoes. We made homemade applesauce and stored pears. Ma took care of us when her own family lived across the yard and wouldn’t lift a finger. She’s the strongest person I know.

Ma leans back in her chair, staring at me across the table while I take my first, fast sip, allowing the alcohol to scorch my throat.

“Denying things in your life isn’t worth the pain,” Ma begins. My mouth opens to contradict her, but she raises a hand to stop me. “I want to tell you a story.”

This is how she began the explanation behind my birth twenty-something years ago. The moral of her truth-telling story then was how my heart will go on.

“When I first returned to Wrightwood, alone and scared and basically homeless, I stayed at the Hobbs’s. Landon was your uncle’s friend, but he was also dear to me.” She warmly smiles. “Before I went to Charleston, Landon used to tease that I was a shooting star.”

Ma laughs and arches a brow. “More like an asteroid bound for a collision with Earth.” Her voice softens when she adds, “Reminds me a little bit of you.”

I shake my head, wondering where Ma is going with this tale.