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“Wait, what?” I swear he sounds just like the princess from that Frozen movie.
“You said it yourself. This isn’t working.”
He stops. Eyes me quizzically from underneath a streetlamp. “What is it that you don’t think is working?”
“Any of it.” I sweep my hands out to the sides. Melodramatic, maybe, but this conversation was a long time in the making, and I’ve got a lot of pent-up stress to get off my chest. “You. Me. Natalie. Trying to pretend we’re a big happy family.”
He’s looking at me like I’ve just slaughtered his mother in front of him, and I get a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my gut. “Wait, what were you talking about?”
“I was talking about Orchard Grove.” His voice is about five levels too loud. I want to point a remote control at him and tone it down a little. “I was talking about us living so far away from Seattle.” He’s a shaken-up soda bottle about to explode from all that extra pressure.
“Oh.” It’s the most I can think of to say at the moment. We’ve both stopped underneath a street lamp. I can see every vein tensed in his neck. The quiver in his jaw from clenching his teeth so hard.
Oops.
“You seriously think our relationship isn’t working? What, that just because we’ve had a few bumps in the road it’s time to count our losses and move on?”
“That’s what I thought you were saying.” I’m too defensive. Too hot-headed right now. It’s because I haven’t slept. Who could expect me to have a rational conversation after what I’ve been through in the past twenty-four hours?
“No, that’s not what I was saying. But I’m seriously concerned that it’s what you were thinking.”
I roll my eyes and start walking back to the hospital, hoping he’ll follow me. “That’s not what I was thinking. I just thought you were ...”
“What? Thought I was what?” He grabs my arm.
I yank it free. “I thought you were ...”
“An irresponsible jerk who’s going to abandon his little girl when she’s sick? Man, Tiff, what sort of person do you think I am?”
“I only meant ...”
“That we’d be better off split up?” he finishes for me.
“I never said that.” I quicken my pace. It’s cold out here, and I want to get inside.
“You didn’t have to say it. Geeze. Is that what this whole four months have been to you? Some sort of experiment? Why the heck did you marry me in the first place if you didn’t think that we would stick together?”
I whip my head around and stop dead in my tracks to face him. “Of course I thought we would. At least I hoped so. But that was before ...” I clench my jaw shut. Do I want to make this worse?
“Before what?” His shoulders are squared. His jaw set.
I should leave now. Leave and talk to him again in the morning once we’ve both had time to cool off.
“Before what?” he demands again. He clenches his hands into fists.
“Nothing.” I can’t do it. As sick as I am of all this bickering, as annoying as he gets when he falls into these broody moods, a pathetic part of me wants to hold onto him. Wants to hope we might still find a way to make this work.
It’s not time to pull the plug. Not yet.
I start moving again. He grabs me by the back of my hoodie. Yanks me around to face him. “Don’t walk away from me.”
“Get your hands off me.” I glance around. There’s a few people within shouting distance. If I need to, I can make him let go. He won’t dare touch me a second time.
“You know,” he begins. His face is close to mine. So close I can feel the heat from his anger. I’m the one who did this to him. I should have never let things escalate like this. “I came to Seattle ready to make things right. That car my mom and I drove out here? It wasn’t a rental. It was a Christmas present. She bought it for us.”
I don’t know what to say. I recall what I detected as that hint of kindness in Patricia’s voice when she called the hospital room. If I had known ...
“I was going to sell the Pontiac. Already know a guy from work who said he’d buy it from me once he gets his tax return. You know what? I was going to use the money to get us a place in Seattle. That’s where I was this afternoon. Looking for apartments close to the hospital. Care to guess why? Because I was willing to sacrifice anything for our daughter.” He shakes his head. “You don’t even know who I am, do you?” He’s disgusted with me. I can see it in his eyes.
“Listen, I’m sorry.” What else am I supposed to say? So this was some big, stinking mistake. That happens. It’s where we go from here that matters.
Jake doesn’t respond.
I swallow my pride and try one more time. “I had no idea you were ...”
“No idea?” he interrupts.
I grit my teeth to keep from screaming out in frustration. Will he let me get a word in?
“No idea,” he repeats with a sarcastic laugh that’s totally unlike him. “Yeah, I kind of figured that when you and your doctor friend were making out in our daughter’s hospital room.”
It’s a cheap shot and a lie, and he knows it. I see the trace of shame hit his face. It’s up to me now. The ball’s in my court. I can placate him, explain to him one more time how Eliot’s just a friend I randomly met in Seattle. I can gush over his mother’s generous gift, a gift I’m sure doesn’t come without a few dozen invisible strings attached, strings that are bound to tie us down for years to come if I accept it.
Or I can walk away. Take my chances. Just me and my daughter.
Whatever decision I’m going to make, it’s got to be final.
“I don’t even want to look at you right now,” I tell him and turn back toward the hospital. Toward my daughter.
I’m four or five steps away before he calls after me. “Tiff, wait.” We both know that’s what he’s supposed to say now. His voice isn’t even all that convincing.
“Just leave me alone.” I call over my shoulder, keeping my eye on the huge man walking toward us. If Jake gives me a hard time, I’ll scream rape and get this Good Samaritan to intervene.
“Tiff, please.” There’s a hint of sincerity now in his tone, but it’s too late. Never look back.
My life motto.