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“It’s easy to say that now.”
“We’ve both had a lot to drink and you have every right to be upset…” I start as she tries to wiggle out of my grasp.
“I have every right?!” she screams. “
How fucking dare you tell me about any rights I might have. You lied to me. Right to my face! For A WEEK. I can’t even believe we’re here again.” Her lip trembles. “Let me go, Bennett.”
“Livi…I can’t.”
She’s about to respond when there’s a knock on the stall door. “Everything okay in there?” the voice booms through the door. “Is she alright? I heard her say to let her go.” Olivia looks towards the door with a frown as he continues. “Ma’am, are you okay in there? I can get security for you.”
“Back the fuck off,” I growl at the door. “I’m her husband and she’s fine.”
“Frankly pal, that doesn’t mean shit. Ma’am, say something please so I know you’re alright.”
She lets out a shaky breath, knowing she’s far from alright but having to pretend that she is so that I’m not potentially at risk of people thinking I’ve physically hurt my drunk and emotional wife. “I’m okay. We’ll be out in a second.” Her nostrils flare and she squeezes her eyes shut. “Thank you,” she whispers. “It’s nice to know there are still good men out there.” Her eyes flash to mine angrily and the words are like a pierce to my heart.
“Alright.” I can tell his hand hits the stall and then I hear him walking away and the door opens allowing a cacophony of sounds to blast through the room.
By the grace of God, I convince Olivia to let me take her home. Olivia hates riding in Ubers or taxis late at night by herself, and despite her anger, she knows she’s drunk and doesn’t want to be out alone with her sense of awareness drastically lower. Wren and Alyssa had long since texted us while we were fucking in the bathroom, that they were calling it a night and had left. Which also worked in my favor because the last thing I needed was to add Alyssa Hamilton into the mix.
Olivia is silent as we leave the Upper East Side and cross back to our side of town. She’s staring out the window, and I stare at her for most of the time. I reach for her hand, and although she whimpers uncomfortably, she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t look at me either, but I’m counting the minor contact as a small win.
“Excuse me,” she says softly and my head snaps up from staring at our hands to see she’s talking to our Uber driver. “It’s actually going to be two stops.”
“No. It’s not,” I say immediately and she glares at me.
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m her husband,” I inform the driver whose eyes are now trained on me through the rearview mirror.
“Stop calling yourself that,” she snaps and now it’s my turn to glare at her.
“I am. Just because you’re angry, it doesn’t change the law, now stop being childish.” I know my eyes are angry at this point, the thought of her denying me that title making me almost irate.
“Fuck you,” she bites out and when I look back towards the driver, I catch him rolling his eyes, realizing that we are clearly just having a fight.
When we pull to the front of our building, she doesn’t wait for me to get out to open her door before she’s on the move. I’m behind her instantly, my hand at the small of her back, guiding her. We move through the lobby, without a word to the concierge who gives us a polite nod and a warm smile.
The elevator is so tense the air between us is almost stifling. Olivia won’t meet my eyes as she keeps hers trained on the floor. “Olivia. Baby, look at me,” I tell her and she puts a hand up, shaking her head.
I follow her out of the elevator, towards our apartment and once we’re safely inside, I try and talk to her again. “Livi.”
She kicks her shoes off, flinging them as if she has doesn’t have a care as to where they land and walks toward the kitchen. She opens the refrigerator and stares inside as if she’s trying to figure out what to eat, and I move to the other side to look at her. “Are you hungry? I can make you whatever you want? Or I can order something?”
She closes the door and glares at me. “I need you to leave. Go to Wren’s. Go to your mother’s. I don’t care. I don’t want you here,” she tells me. My apartment is already in the process of being sublet, so I can’t go back there, not that I had any intentions of leaving tonight.
“No, Olivia we need to talk tomorrow when we are both sober.”
“I’m plenty sober, Bennett.” She turns her back, walking towards her bedroom and I follow her. We’d been sleeping mostly in our old bedroom, and I hate the thought that she wants to sleep away from me tonight.
“Do not follow me,” she growls over her shoulder before slamming the door in my face. I open it anyway and move inside as she pulls her dress off over her head. “Go away, Bennett, I don’t want to see you or talk to you or even be near you right now.” She’s not yelling or crying and frankly, I wish she was having a more passionate response. This quiet, cold indifference is worse.
“Well, I need to be near you.”
She snorts. “And it’s always about you and your needs, right? Never mind, that I didn’t even fucking want you here in the first place. I knew you’d bulldoze over me. I knew you’d break me down.” She pulls one of her t-shirts on and a pair of leggings before moving past me and towards the bathroom. “I just didn’t know you’d break my heart again in the process.”
I drop to her bed, digging the heel of my palm into my eye as I think about her words. I pull my shoes off, tossing them with more force than I intend into the corner of the room. I yank off my jacket and begin unbuttoning my shirt as the water begins to run in the bathroom.
