Page 20 of Rainstorm

Yeah, the scene is ready.

My heart is hammering hard in my chest.

It’s almost six when I hear the door opening, and then the heavy footsteps I’d recognize anywhere. I put the meatloaf on the countertop, taking the oven mitts off as I turn around to greet him with a smile.

These days apart have felt like centuries to me.

We’ve been so far apart. And I mean more than physically.

My lips tremble when his don’t curve up. Despite all my efforts, Chase isn’t smiling.

He looks at me with a serious expression, his gaze dull, almost empty.

And my heart stops.

Guessing.

Shattering.

What in the hell is going on?

I gather all my strength and lifting my chin, I walk over and kiss him. His lips are cold and don’t react to mine. I want to ask him what’s wrong, but I’m too scared to hear something I know I won’t like.

Implosion.

My steady body is just a mask.

Hiding my inner turmoil, my sadness, my fears.

To the mattresses, my inner voice shouts. Pasting on another smile, I follow through with my plan.

“Are you hungry? Dinner is ready, I made your favorite tonight. I’m sure you’re going to like it.” I hope so, God, I need some help here. “It’s not burnt today.”

He wants to smile, but something stops him, as if he’s suddenly remembered something.

Oh no, no, no.

I’m getting more and more nervous. An annoying voice is warning me that this is just the beginning.

“Look, the table is finished.” I fail at my attempt to sound nonchalant. “Do you like it?”

“It looks very nice, well done,” he responds, looking at it with a neutral face, touching the wood slowly, almost absently. He’s here, just in front of me, but his soul is somewhere else. Far, far away.

Unreachable.

Untouchable.

“Roselynn, we need to talk. Please have a seat.”

He’s used my full name. This is serious. I sit automatically without saying a word. I close my eyes preparing for what is to come. The first punch, figuratively of course, my husband has never hit me, and I’m sure he never would. It’s not in his nature.

He’s a gentleman.

Even though he’s always referring to himself as a caveman.

He starts pacing back and forth while I take a moment to look at the man I fell in love with. He seems to be the same. Those stormy eyes that sometimes look blue and other days gray. He is so handsome, manly and loveable that it’s almost unreal. Somehow today is different, his attitude is different.

He has changed, as have I. This much I know.

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