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“What?”
“Don’t do that.”
I frowned. “Do what?”
“That fucking ‘okay’ shit when you’re clearly pissed.”
I laughed. “You’re mad at me?”
“I’m not mad.”
“You sound mad.”
“I’m stressed.”
“And I’m supposed to know the difference?”
“Blair.”
I pushed my chair back and stood. “What’s happening with the divorce?”
He got quiet.
“What happened with the divorce, Caleb?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you quiet?”
He exhaled into the phone. “I have to slow down.”
I laughed. “Of course.”
“This isn’t about us.”
“It is always about us when your marriage affects our relationship.”
“She’s not stable right now.”
I started pacing through the kitchen. “When is she ever going to be stable?”
Silence.
I closed my eyes. “Fuck. I didn’t mean—”
“You think I want this shit?”
His voice changed. Caleb had gotten frustrated with me before, but I’d never heard that tone.
“What?”
“You think I want to spend my life managing this?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what the fuck are you saying?”
“I’m saying every single time you’re supposed to leave her, something happens!”
