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I doubted it but got up, too, offering my hand to Scarlett to help her to her feet. She huffed angrily and shot up on her own, passing me without a word. “Good night,” she said tightly and hurried out of the room before anyone could even reply.
When I made my way to follow, my father gripped my shoulder. “A word, son.”
A heavy ball of dread dropped in my stomach, already tight with worry. I knew what was coming, but I waited obediently as everyone else left.
“Son, I just want to commend you on taking initiative,” Father said, looking at me seriously. “You’ve made the right decision for your wife, and even if she disagrees, it’s important you stay firm. Though maybe try speaking more gently with her when you’ve both calmed down, hm? She doesn’t seem like the type to take direct orders easily.”
I winced because that was the understatement of the year. I was already trembling inside at the thought of what Scarlett would unleash as soon as we were alone. At the same time, unease prickled down my spine. Because did I really make the right decision? What if I was wrong? How could I know?
Doubt and uncertainty grew, filling me with dread. I didn’t want to be responsible for this decision. I couldn’t handle the risk of being wrong, and I knew that just made me a horrible husband.
“Thank you, Father,” I said, my head pounding with vicious pain.
“Good night, son. Hope you can get some sleep.”
I gritted my teeth, trudging upstairs as my head throbbed. I already knew I wouldn’t sleep a wink.
Chapter 20
Scarlett
“You had no right!” I hissed, whirling toward Jack the moment he stepped in the bedroom. “I’m not a child. You don’t get to shut me up like that!”
“That’s a husband’s prerogative,” he said, though his words wavered, sounding uncertain.
I shot him a scathing look, folding my arms on my chest. “You can take your prerogative and shove it up your ass.”
Jack’s tail twitched, his eyes flaring for a moment before he sat hard on the bed, shaking his head. I watched him, tapping my foot, a long rant on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to unleash it and tell Jack in many sharp words what I thought of him ordering me around like I was a fucking kid, not even letting me speak and discuss things with him. It rankled, it pissed me off, but worst of all—it hurt.
It was exactly what my father had always done. He never let me speak and I thought… I thought Jack was different.
And yet, he did exactly the same thing. Well, not exactly. Jack’s way of shutting me up was much politer, but it still cut deep, opening old scars.
So I wanted to lay into him but something held me back. He looked utterly defeated already, not at all volatile and derisive like my father used to, and it gave me pause. Fighting people didn’t give me pleasure, it was how I defended and protected myself. And Jack didn’t attack me. He just sat there, looking miserable, and I had no idea how to react.
Any other man I knew would have insulted me if I said to him what I just said to Jack.
I was flummoxed.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally without looking up. “I’m scared something will happen to you. Going up the mountain is tricky in winter. Could be dangerous. And you are…” He trailed off, eyes darting up to me and away as his tail twitched in agitation. “You’re human.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, praying for patience. A part of me wanted to tackle Jack to the bed and beat him up with a pillow. Another, less reasonable part wanted to stroke his head and tell him everything would be fine, which was ridiculous. The way he treated me was wrong. I couldn’t reward it.
“Couldn’t you have said that first?” I asked tightly. “I’m not an idiot. You can reason with me, and I’ll listen. But instead, you chose to shut me up.End of discussion,” I repeated his words from before with a derisive snort.
He fidgeted with his hands while I stood over him, bouncing on the balls of my feet. The yammering from outside grated on my nerves, making me more irate by the second, and the only thing that held my fury back was Jack’s desolate posture.
“Isn’t that what a h-husband should do?” he asked quietly, looking at his hands. “Decide for everyone in a hard situation? Shouldn’t a good husband… take on the burden of responsibility?”
When he glanced up, his eyes were filled with such anguish, I couldn’t help it. I sat down by his side, putting my hand on his thigh. All my anger was gone, though the raw wound inside me still throbbed with hurt.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said simply. “The only role model I had was my father, and he was a shitty husband and parent. Believe me, you don’t want to be like him.”
Jack frowned, putting his hand on top of mine. “Why? What was he like?”
I shook my head, the cat noises burrowing into my brain and making it hard to think. My skin crawled at the thought of my father, and I forced the words out with difficulty. “He told me to shut up a lot. Basically every time I disagreed with him, which was often. So. Don’t be like him.”
Jack’s sharp intake of breath made me look at him. He wore a horrified expression, his tail swishing wildly as he stared at me with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t… I shouldn’t have tried to stop you from speaking. I was just trying to do the right thing—to decide. But I don’t even know what the right choice is. It’s shameful but… I don’t want to make any decisions for you.”
