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When he opens his mouth to say something, I shake my head and cut him off. “No, we’re not doing this. She’s not coming. End of story.”
I go back to spreading jam on my toast.
I’m in the middle of doing that when Jameson moves behind me, places his hand to my hip and brings his mouth to my ear. “Not end of story. You’re hurt. Don’t hide that away.”
My breathing slows down as my brain attempts to get a handle on what is happening here. “Jameson, don’t.”
He turns me to face him. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t dothis. It’s confusing. You’re not my husband when it’s just the two of us. You don’t need to act like one.”
He works his jaw. “I’m not acting like a husband. I’m acting like a man who gives a fuck about the woman in his life. You may not be my wife, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you. I am not the man you have in that fucking box, Adeline, so please don’t treat me like him.”
He’s right; I do treat him like that man in the box. Not all the time, but whenever I get confused, I revert to thinking he’s the Jameson I thought he was. That’s not fair to him.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I hated you for so long and had such a vivid idea of who I thought you were that it’s hard to let that Jameson go.”
“Let it go. I won’t tolerate it much longer.” His eyes are dark like the reaction I’ve inspired.
I nod. I didn’t realize he felt so strongly about this.
“I’ve got some work to do this morning,” he says, moving to the coffee machine. “I was thinking we’d leave for Mom’s around two this afternoon?”
“I’ll be ready.”
He looks at me. “That works for you?”
I smile. “Yes.” He really is trying here.
“Okay.”
He makes his coffee and takes it with him when he leaves to go to his office.
I release a long breath when I’m alone. I then reach for my phone to send Natalie a text.
Adeline: I want to go back to denial. It was easier there.
Natalie: It really wasn’t. You don’t recall how assholey MA was back then?
Adeline: At least I knew what the fuck was going on. This new place I’m in is messy and confusing and OMG how am I going to survive eleven more months of it?
Natalie: Just have sex all the time. Confused about something? Fuck him. Hate him over something? Fuck him. Feeling weird about something? Fuck him.
Adeline: How are you even a therapist? Is this the advice you hand out all day, every day?
Natalie: I’m seriously contemplating it. World peace, here we come.
Adeline: Okay, but I actually need your real advice now. Tell me what to do.
Natalie: Right, so this is the part where I remind you that most people don’t go around pretend marrying people. I’m not actually skilled in handing out advice for how to make it through a year of a fake marriage. But once you complete your mission, we’ll pow wow and figure out a game plan for next time, ‘k?
Adeline: We are in another war. Just FYI.
Natalie: I complete you. Just FYI.
I skip breakfast.
I’m not hungry. Not after that conversation with Jameson.
