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“All he said was ‘that’s great babe?’” she asks me from across the table of the local Mexican restaurant we like. This place usually lifts with spirits with its brightly colored walls, authentic Mexican décor hanging on the walls. The strum of mariachi music filters over the speakers at just the right volume. Plus, they have the second best salsa in town, mine being the first, of course.

“Yep, in his same monotone voice,” I tell Ruby while I run my finger around the stem of the wine glass. Cider isn’t going to cut it tonight. I need something with a little more bite to get me out of this funk.

I think back to the conversation, wondering if I misheard his response. Maybe I’m super defensive because of our past. Maybe he acted like he was supposed to and I’m blowing things out of proportion, but my gut is telling me something different.

“I don’t get it. We’ve been communicating so well over the past few months. He’s seemed really engaged, you know? Jesus, I moved out because I was tired of doing the same dang thing and expecting different results, but I’m still doing the same thing. This time I’m doing it from under my own roof, but it’s no less frustrating.” I throw back the rest of my glass and then signal the server for a refill.

“You need to slow down there, Mama. You’re going to be hating life tomorrow when you have to deal with all those brats and you’re nursing a hangover. You know the sweet stuff packs a punch the morning after.”

I sigh, not really caring if I feel like crap tomorrow because I’m not sure it will feel any worse than what I feel right now. I really thought my plan was working. Yeah, he’s still unable to find someone he wants to hand part of his company over to, but he’s shifted some of his responsibilities over to his lead men, and they’ve been doing everything as he wants them to. Or so he tells me. I’ve seen glimpses of the man he once was. I know he’s in there, but maybe I’m asking too much. I shake my head because it’s not. I’m not asking him to change. I’m asking him to be the man who I fell in love with. I want that man back.

“It’s not surprising, you know? I mean, it’s the way he’s been for so long now. His lack of enthusiasm has been par for the course for years.”

“Sweetie.” Ruby rubs her hand up and down my arm. This is her tell-tell sign that she’s going to tell me something that I may not want to hear. She thinks rubbing me, something she knows I love, will soften the blow to my heart she’s about to inflict.

“Remember the reason why you moved out, but you can’t nitpick him every time he does something you don’t like. You can’t control who he is. You can only control your own actions, and you need to talk to him. You’ve said time and time again that he never talks to you, but honey, other than the night he walked out, when was the last time you honestly told him how you felt? You can’t fix anything if you don’t talk to him and that right there is the biggest issue of them all.”

I nod because she’s right. I know she’s right. “You’re right. I should have told him how I felt instead of losing my cool and hanging up.”

“Doll, you know I’m always more right than wrong. This isn’t your first rodeo. Now either talk to your husband or get the fuck over it.” She sits back, and I can’t help but laugh.

“So crude, my friend,” I say over the rim of my glass.

“If you couldn’t handle me, then you would’ve walked away a long time ago.” She winks as she raises her drink saluting me.

Trying to findthe lock in the dark after you’ve had a couple of glasses of wine is a pain in the butt. Pulling out my phone, I switch on the flashlight. “Whit?” Heath’s voice startles me, making me drop my phone.

“Shit,” I swear.

“Sorry,” he says as he bends over, grabbing my phone and handing it to me.

“What are you doing here, Heath? It’s cold. Why are you standing outside my condo?” I check my phone, making sure it’s not broken. “It’s after ten. Are the kids all right?”

“Yeah, they’re fine.”

He takes a step towards me, and his familiar scent hits my nose. He’s wearing my favorite cologne. He doesn’t usually wear anything, only on the special occasions, so knowing that he’s wearing it tonight is like a twist in the heart. I don’t know where he’s been or who he’s been with. These feelings of jealously are things that I need to get over because I’m the reason why we’re where we are.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, were you on your way home or something?” I know I’m reaching, but I want to know where he’s been tonight.

“What, no.” He shakes his head. “I’ve been sitting in the truck for a couple of hours, waiting for you to get back.”

Relief floods my body, and I feel like I can finally exhale the breath I’ve been holding since he startled me. “Oh, okay. Would you like to come in?” I point to the door with my keys.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

I finally get the door open, turn on the light and usher him in. This is the first time that he’s stepped foot into the condo. He usually pulls up near the sidewalk when he’s here to get the kids.

He looks around. “It looks great, Whitney. It’s completely you. Totally different from the house, but still you.” I watch him as he takes in the pictures I have on a bookcase. His finger runs down the spine of my latest book before taking it out. He runs thumbs through the pages before shelving it back where he got it. He turns around, and his face is full of remorse, regret maybe.

“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted today when you told me about the publishing opportunity. I’m sorry.”

I’m speechless, so I just nod. My throat is so thick with emotion, I’m afraid I won’t be able to speak. He takes a step towards me.

“Is it all right if I sit?” He motions to the couch.

“Yeah, sure.” I lower myself to the couch, pulling my legs to my chest and wrapping my arm around myself.