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“And they know y’all are having problems?”

He paused. “Some of them.”

That answer bothered me. “Some?”

“My mother knows more than everybody else.”

I folded my arms. “Does your mother know you ask other women on dates?”

“No.”

I laughed. “Interesting.”

“I’m not proud of this.”

“Shit, you could’ve fooled me.”

He nodded. "I deserve that.”

“Two minutes.”

“Blair—”

“Talk faster.”

He licked his lips and looked down again. “We haven’t had a real marriage in years.”

I rolled my eyes at the married-man national anthem. We’re basically roommates. There’s nothing between us. We’re only together for the kids. Except they didn’t have children.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

He looked down before responding. “We sleep in separate rooms.”

I said nothing.

“We don’t touch each other. We barely talk unless it’s about the house, my family, or something she needs.”

“She needs?”

“She depends on me for a lot.”

“Financially?”

“Not just financially.”

“Then what?”

Caleb exhaled and rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Everything.”

I took a step back.

“If Ravenna needs to make an appointment, I remind her. If she’s having a bad day, I’m the one who has to talk her out of whatever headspace she’s in. If she hasn’t eaten, my mom calls me. If she hasn’t answered my sister for a couple days, they call me. If there’s a family dinner and she doesn’t want to come, everybody asks me what’s wrong.”

He rubbed both hands down his face. “I’m tired. I’ve been tired for years.”

My anger didn’t like that sentence, but my empathy did. Unfortunately, empathy was always louder in my world.

“So leave,” I said.