Page 4 of Claiming His Wife

“How was your day?” Mallory asks.

I can’t hold in my sigh of annoyance at having my work interrupted. “Fine.”

Shockingly, Mallory doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. She’s always been a talker. She’ll talk about anything and everything. Prattling on as if she has all the time in the world and no one’s time is important. I go back to my email.

“So, I was thinking it’s time for a change.” Great, she’s not done with the small talk.

“Yeah?” I say distractedly. I’m already thinking about what steps we need to take tomorrow to get the Thorton campaign off the ground.

“Things aren’t working anymore, and I think it’s time I move out.”

I nod in response to whatever Mallory is saying. She’s always got something going on, and I honestly don’t care if she wants to repaint the living room again or plant flowers around the mailbox or buy new curtains or take up yoga or any of the other dozen things she’s wanted to do.

“I’m moving in with Zack, so I don’t need any of the furniture. I’ve made an appointment with a lawyer to get things moving… I figure since we don’t have any kids the divorce should be pretty cut and dry.”

Wait, what? Divorce?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I practically shout causing Mallory to jump in her seat.

“It’s only logical. I don’t make you happy anymore, and you deserve to be with someone who makes you happy. Not to sound cliché but I’d like it if we could still be friends. This doesn’t have to turn into a nasty separation.”

I hear the words that are coming out of her mouth, I do, but she’s not making any sense.

“I don’t want to be friends.”

Mallory flinches like I slapped her, completely misunderstanding my meaning. I don’t want to be friends because she’s my fucking wife. We’ve never just been friends. She’s my world and has been since she tripped into my life—literally.

“Whatever makes you happy.” Mallory gets up from the table and rinses her plate before putting it in the dishwasher. Her body is tight with so much tension; she looks like she could snap at any moment.

“That’s not what I meant, baby.”

“It’s fine, Scott. Really.”

No, it’s not fucking fine. Nothing is fine.

I push away from the table and close the distance between us, she keeps her back to me, and I know she’s crying. I turn her to face me, and sure enough silent tears track down her face. I pull her into my arms and hold her close, loving the feel of her curves against me. God, how long has it been since I had her in my arms? She fits perfectly against my body, just like she always has. My cock twitches and I have to push the desire away. This isn’t the time to think with my dick. I have to fix this somehow. Mallory can’t leave me.

“Mal, tell me how to fix this.”

“I don’t think you can.” She tries to push away, and I hug her a little tighter knowing that if I let her go, I’m going to lose her.

“Talk to me, please. Tell me what to do.”

This time when she pushes away, I let her.

“Scott, I’ve been talking… you don’t listen.”

“I’m listening now.”

Mallory shakes her head, and my heart nearly falls out of my chest at the defeated look on my beautiful wife’s face. What the hell did I do to put such a terrible look in her eyes?

“It’s okay, Scott. We had five years together… most of those years were the best years of my life. We’ve grown apart, and that’s okay. It’s time for both of us to move on and find happiness elsewhere.”

Grown apart? What the hell is she talking about? I mean, yeah, I’ve been busy with work lately, but that’s for her. To make sure she has everything she needs.

“You can’t leave. This is crazy. We’re married, you don’t just give up on that. You made a commitment to me. To us.”

I get a small flicker of hope when the corner of Mallory’s lips tilts up in a smile until I see the deep sadness and regret in her eyes. “I have tried. Do you know how long it’s been since you made love to me? Or even just held me? Or really kissed me? Not just the good-bye pecks you give out of habit before you leave for work. I’m talking a toe-curling, breath-stealing kiss. The kind that leaves us both panting and looking for the nearest flat surface.”

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