Page 62 of Dirty Grovel

“I’ll give you two more days. Then the gloves are off.”

“This isn’t a fight, babe.”

“Wanna bet?”

I duck out of the way as the couple starts heading in my direction. They walk past and I hide against the wall, wondering what that was all about.

Faye and Artem are#couplegoalsas far as I’m concerned. Ineedto believe that they can withstand anything.

Even a trip to Nassau to visit the most dysfunctionalnon-couple on earth.

That evening, after the kids are all down for the night, I hand Faye a ginger-coconut concoction that Jesse specializes in and broach the subject as delicately as I can manage.

“So… everything okay between you and Artem?”

Faye’s eyebrows hit the roof. She pulls her feet down off the stool and turns to me. “What do you mean?”

“I really didn’t mean to,” I say with an apologetic cringe. “But I overheard you guys fighting this morning in the kitchen.”

“Oh.” Faye’s face remains impassive for a second. Then she smiles. “It was nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing. You’re always so calm. It was a little unsettling to hear you all riled up.”

“Well, he sure knows how to push my buttons.”

“I imagine all husbands know how to push their wives’ buttons.”

She sighs and fiddles with the ring on her finger. “I’m not talking about Artem, love. I’m talking about Oleg.”

“Oh! You’re mad at Oleg. But… why?”

“Haven’t you noticed that he’s barely around? It feels like he’s avoiding us. Me and the kids. But especially you.”

“That’s the new normal,” I mumble. “Please don’t feel like you have to fight for me here. I’m okay.”

“Like hell you are,” Faye fires back. “I can see how lonely you are, Sutton. Everyone can.”

Biting my lip, I pretend to sip on my drink as I turn my gaze out towards the ocean. I love hanging out on this terrace. It gives us an unadulterated view of the ocean. And just off to the right, I can see Oleg’s favorite little yacht:The Water Star.

“I just have to find ways to occupy my time when you guys leave.”

“You shouldn’t have to. Oleg is the one who brought you here and knocked you up. He should be stepping up and taking responsibility. He should be pampering and worshiping you. Instead, he’s?—”

“Hiding out on his boats more often than not?”

“Exactly!” Faye storms, getting riled up all over again. “It’s a coward’s move, and say what you want about Oleg, he’s no coward. You’re carrying his baby; you deserve better.”

“I don’t know…”

Faye looks aghast. “How can you say that?”

I shrug. “Let’s face it, Faye. I knew what I was getting into from day one. He never lied to me about what he expected. He wanted a baby. It was never about me. There was never going to be an ‘us.’ We were doomed right from the beginning.”

She grabs my hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. “Nothing is ever doomed,” she insists. “This is just Oleg’s M.O. He gets insecure about things and his way of dealing with it is to not deal with it at all.”

“What do you think he’s insecure about?”

She spreads her hands wide to encompass everything. “Fatherhood. Marriage. Love. Anything too emotional or intimate or personal. He recoils like a wounded animal.”

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