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“It means that I’m sick and tired of your crappy attitude. There’s only so much I can put up with.”
I tap my finger on the beer bottle, Hannah’s earlier words bubbling under the surface. Do I want to say anything? A question like that, hell, even an insinuation, is something that can never be taken back.
Quinn is many things—good things and bad things, like all of us—but a cheater? No. Never that. We might be going through a hard time, but we’ve always had such a strong bond born out of our love and our history. He’d never hurt me like that. At least that’s what I always believed.
“Just say it.”
“Say what?”
“I know you, Bailey. You have something on your mind,” he says, tapping his head. “I can see it working.” He gestures at me with his beer bottle. “Seeing that, once again, I’m the bad guy, you might as well get it all out.”
Did I imagine a hint of a sneer in his voice? His words are condescending enough that it’s possible.
“You didn’t mention that you missed the last boys night.”
I peer into his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.
“I told you. I bumped into Craig. We went for drinks.”
“You did. But you didn’t mention that it was before. You made it sound like it happened after.”
His eyes narrow, his posture becoming defensive. “What are you implying?”
I sigh. “Nothing, Quinn. Absolutely nothing.”
“You sure? Because for a minute there, it sounded like you were accusing me of something.”
The words are so horrible that not even he can say them.
“All I’m saying is that I hardly know what’s going on in your life anymore. I’m your wife. We’re supposed to share things. We’re supposed to be involved in each other’s lives. What we’re doing is not healthy. Surely you can see that?”
“All I can see is that I have an ungrateful wife who keeps busting my balls when all I’m doing is trying to provide for us.”
I swallow thickly. He did not just say that.
“Fine, Quinn. From now on, I’ll keep quiet. ”
And I will. I’ve seen a side to Quinn these last few weeks that’s left me reeling. The way he talks to me is either indifferent or condescending, and it’s not just his words, it’s his actions as well. For the first time in my life, I’m filled with doubt. Does he even still love me? I’ve always taken it for granted, but now I’m not so sure. I’m not sure about anything anymore. But what I do know, is I can’t keep doing this to myself. I can’t keep living in this state. If he’s going through something, something he doesn’t want to share with me, I can’t make him open up to me or allow him to take it out on me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BAILEY
“ARE YOUgoing somewhere?”
I continue brushing my hair and take in Quinn’s sleepy eyes. His hair is rumpled, and there’s an indentation in his cheek from his pillow. Averting my eyes again, I continue brushing.
“Does it matter?” Putting my brush down, I turn around, leaning against the sink. “Or did you maybe plan a special day for us? Where we go out and do things as a couple?”
The silence stretches as I wait for his answer. I thought getting confirmation that your husband doesn’t care about spending time with you would hurt more than it does. Instead, I find myself strangely apathetic while waiting for his answer. I shouldn’t be surprised. There’s no confusing Quinn’s actions of these past months, and there’s only so much a heart can take before it starts protecting itself.
“I guess a non-answer is an answer in itself. Don’t worry. I’m not going to try and force you to spend time with me.”
“Bailey, come on. That’s not true, and you know it. My life is just crazy at the moment, and—”
I hold up my hand, cutting him off. “I don’t want to fight, Quinn. You’re free to do whatever it is you do these days without me nagging or being dramatic. Just do me a favor. If you don’t plan on making family dinner tonight, let Mom know. I’m really not in the mood to field a thousand questions.”
I take a deep breath and brush past him, gathering my bag and keys.
