Page 3 of Shoot Your Shot

“I wish you would,” I utter, looking at her lips. “I wish you fucking would. That way, we could forget about all of this nonsense you’re talking about.”

I grab her left hand, trying to force the ring onto her finger, and she yanks it away from me.

“No!” she screams, snarling at me. “You know, you aren’t the only one who’s hurting, Kolt. And yet you’ve refused to let me in or to even comfort me. That’s because you are the most selfish man I’ve ever known, Kolt Kolburne. One day, you’re going to look back on this night, and you’re going to wish you had treated our relationship differently.” Tears stream down her face, and she stares up at me with pure hatred. “You’re going to regret not giving a fuck about us. And when you do, I’ll be long gone.”

“You’ll be long gone and onto a man who was born with a silver spoon in his fucking mouth and belongs to the same country club your fuckface dad does,” I growl. “That’s what you mean.”

“You’re unbelievable,” she says in a weak croak before shaking her head.

She heads toward the door and pauses for a second before pulling it open and walking out, letting it slam shut.

For a moment, I simply stare at the door, wondering if she’s going to come to her senses and run back in. Who the fuck am I kidding? Even I’m not that delusional.

“FUCK!” I roar, taking the ring and throwing it against the wall. It’s not enough to numb the stabbing pain buried in my soul though, and soon, I’m pounding my fist into the wall. Blow after blow until my knuckles are dripping with blood and stinging from cuts.

The vows we exchanged clearly meant nothing. But why would I expect her to stay when all I’ve done for months is basically walk her to the door?

My wife is gone. Without her, there is no me. Just a fucking shell of a man with a diamond ring and a big, empty house.

For months, I’ve wanted her to go. Because deep down, I know I can never give her what she wants.

When I collapse onto the couch, my mind travels back to the day everything changed.

The day that ruined my life.

“We’ll be in touch with your results, but, per usual, I’m not anticipating anything to come back,” Dr. Clayton said. “Unless there’s anything else you’re concerned about … you’re good to go.”

The entire morning, I had debated on if I was going to bring something up to him or not. On one hand, I knew I needed to because I wanted reassurance that it wasn’t my fault that Paige wasn’t pregnant yet. On the other hand … what if it was my fault? I knew I’d feel so fucking guilty.

Month after month, I had watched that woman take test after test. Each time, her light was a little dimmer. We had been trying to have a baby for over a year, and to be honest, in the past six months, sex was no longer about being connected to each other, but simply trying for that baby we both wanted so badly.

If she had found out that she could never have kids, I’d still want to spend my life with her. That was the truth. But I didn’t want to be the one to take it from her if I was the problem. So, I needed to find out.

I cleared my throat nervously. “Uh, so my wife and I … we’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now. And I just …”

“Want to make sure everything’s good on your end?” he said, giving me a reassuring smile. “We can do a test to check everything out. That’s no big deal.”

He pushed back on his stool, wheeling backward until he was over by the cupboards and sink. Standing, he opened the drawer and took out a cup before walking toward me and handing it over.

“I trust you know what to do?”

Swallowing thickly, I nodded and took it. “I guess so, Doc.”

Slapping my shoulder lightly, he grinned. “All righty, son. Just leave the cup on the counter when you’re done, and I’ll be in touch with the results.”

Once he left, I looked down at the cup and groaned. I would much rather go home and pour my seed into my wife’s tight pussy than this sterile fucking plastic cup. After unscrewing the top, I unbuttoned my jeans and brought my cock into my hand. As I stroked myself, I pictured my wife on her knees, greedily sucking my dick the way she loved to do. Whenever she did, she’d be soaking wet because she loved it so much. She was a dirty girl, and I loved that.

It had been months since she had sucked my cock. And the same since she’d let me eat her pussy.

Getting pregnant had overtaken our lives, and I was ready to find answers.

I just didn’t realize that when the doctor called a few days later, I’d learn I was the problem after all. And rather than face a difficult conversation with my wife … I pushed her away.

It’s too late for a do-over. Even if it weren’t, I did what I had to do to give her the life she deserves. I can’t give her what she wants, so what’s the point of dragging it out?

Let’s be honest though; I was cruel, and I said things about her father I didn’t mean. Sure, her dad does enjoy the country club. He comes from money, and he enjoys that, but her father is a good man. Hell, he had taken me and my brother in when we needed it most. And, yeah, he did show up the night before we got married and lost his shit and said unspeakable things. But what had I expected? It had been two weeks after our high school graduation, and we’d dropped the bomb on them the night before we were going to elope—alone. If I had a daughter who pulled that shit, I’d be mad too.

But I had to do what it took to force her to leave. Which meant I had to be callous. I needed to say things that would cut her deep. And her family is the most important thing to her. I swung for the fences, and now, just like I’d planned … she’s gone.

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