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“Mimi gave me a clean bill of health,” I tell him, watching that information sink in.
“When did this happen?” He shifts to his side resting on his elbow taking some fried catfish and eating it.
“Right before you came back from Western Cape.” I don’t look at him then turn to look out at the pond instead.
“That’s nearly a week ago,” he says lowly. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?” Gaze skewering me he takes a wet nap wiping his hands clean.
Sucking my lower lip in, I feel heat rising to my neck and cheeks. Unease ripples through me as words fail me.
Long, unyielding fingers capture my chin making me look at him. “Why, Tay-chan?”
Still, I hesitate, my nose stinging.
“Are we good?” I blurt out the question that’s been eating at me since we came back from Tokyo, and he’s buried himself in work every day since not coming to bed until well past the time I’m sleep and gone before I wake. The only reason I know he’s been there is his scent clinging to his pillow.
I don’t even think he wants me in his room even though he had all my things brought into the subterranean space. I feel the slow creep of distance insinuating between us.
I can’t stand it anymore which led me to impose on his work from home day. I miss him.
“Are we good?” He asks as if there is something lost in translation.
“Yes.” I nod. “Between you and me? Are we good?”
He studies me for a long moment then sighs, shifting so that now he’s facing the pond. He stares out at the pond for a long pensive moment. “No.”
My tummy drops.
He tilts his head to the side looking at me with somber onyx eyes. “How are we supposed to be okay after everythingthat happened to us? After my mother tried to make me believe you betrayed me, so I could kill you out of spite. How are we supposed to be good after I kidnapped you and took you from your life for months? Tormented, and tied you up? How the fuck are we supposed to be good?” His eyes bore into mine waiting for an answer that I don’t know how to give.
“We’re in therapy for all that —together and separate,” I tell him. “Dr. Inoru says the process will be slow and frustrating at times. To help each other when we see the other having a bad day. None of which we can do if we are never together. You are here but you’re not.” All of which he nods yet his expression is unwavering, like I’m not giving him the answer he wants.
“I don’t know what else to say.” Shaking my head, I look away then back at him, feeling powerless. “It’s like you’re mad at me.”
“Then I guess there is nothing left to say.” He rises but I grab his hand stopping him.
“Hisashi, what’s going on?” I try to tug him back down, but he pulls his hand away.
“Why are you still here, Taylor?” He sounds so angry — at me.
“I’m sorry?” Confusion has me stumbling in the rush to get to my feet. “Where else would I be?”
“Anywhere but here.” Shaking his head like I am a lost cause, he rips his hands through hair he’s let grow past his shoulders. “You have an entire family that loves you. A mother and father who adore the ground you walk on. Yet you’re here being a nursemaid to your mad husband.”
“Don’t.” Charging him I shove him hard. He stumbles twice before catching himself. “Don’t you ever say that in reference to yourself again. You will never disparage yourself for things outside of your control,” I seethe, teeth clenched.
His face flushes but he gives me a rough nod.
“Are you in a bad place?” I softly ask.
“Are you?” he demands in a hard one. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because of this, I think.” Waving my hand, I indicate the distance between us. “And yes, I was in a bad place when I saw the pictures from Western Cape all over the internet of you having such a great time when you wouldn’t spend time with me. That was a huge party.” A huge party hosted by my cousin Oz with beautiful models and shapely South African tech executives. “You seemed in your element around your peers.”
I spent more than a few hours scrolling through all the reports. I saw him in some of the shots actually seeming to have a good time. Smiling like I haven’t seen since the night in Tokyo at the theater. I never felt so alone and unwanted.
“That worried you?” This time the question is soft.
“I mean you take me everywhere but not there. I don’t know why.” I shrug, hating this feeling and kind of hating him for making me feel this way. It’s like now that he has me, he doesn’t want me anymore.
