Page 67 of His Loving Wife

“If this year has done anything for me, it’s put things into perspective. I can always find another job. I’m not going to let something like that ruin my time with you and the kids.”

“What about the perspective of being responsible? We have kids. Bills. You can’t just cut our income in half on a whim!”

“Do you think in the last moments of a person’s life, they’re thinking about their mortgage? Their bills? They’re thinking about their family. Loved ones. Happiness. That’s what life is about, Kate. Nothing else matters.”

The air in the room turns thick, like it’s squeezing into my lungs. I stare at Andrew.

“No one is talking about death. I’m talking about life. We can’t live without a house. We can’t live without food and electricity and money. Why are we here pretending like everything is okay?”

“Because it is.” He clasps my hands between his. “We have each other and the kids. That’s what this week is about.”

My cheeks are flushed, my eyes brimming with tears. I’m angry with Andrew for his impulsivity, hurt by his deception. But in this moment, I’m also concerned about his state of mind.

“You think you’re making positive changes, Andrew, but all you’re doing is pushing this family apart.”

“Don’t say that.” He sounds wounded. “You have to believe me when I say that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“You’re not being there for us the way we need you to. You weren’t there for Noah when he needed you. You tried confronting Willow, but all that did was shame her. Now this. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you can’t bring us closer together by trying to take control of everything.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted me to do. Be a man.”

“Right now you’re acting like a very selfish man. Like my dad.” The slip was so sudden, so honest. “You’re not acting like the man I fell in love with.”

“Yeah, well a lot has changed since then.” He laughs. “Really, the last thing I want is to go over this today. Can we please just forget about it? Let’s just go out on the boat, enjoy our time together.”

“No.” I laugh, cruelly. “I’m not going on the boat with you.”

“But you said—”

“That was before, okay? I’ve never been a fan of the water. You know that, and yet you pressure me to go anyway. I’m staying back.”

“Kate, you can’t. Please don’t ruin this.”

“Don’t you dare say I’m the one ruining anything. I’m the one trying to put all the pieces back together. You don’t get to lie to me for the past month and then say I’m ruining what we have.”

The sliding door swooshes open, and a large hand pushes back the curtains. Vincent stands in the doorway. He looks around the room, his gaze landing on both of us. “If we’re going to go, we best do it now. The storm will be here before we know it.”

Andrew nods, then looks back at me. His voice is sheepish. “Kate, please. Come with us.”

“No.” I turn, careful not to look either Andrew or Vincent in the eyes.

Chapter 34

Now

I storm into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. My anger has exhausted me, it seems, with my sweaty skin and flushed cheeks and labored breath. I turn on the sink and splash water onto my face, hoping the cold temperature will level out my emotions.

I can’t believe Andrew would quit his job without telling me, then try to justify his actions. In all the ways he’s acted selfishly since the invasion, this is the most outrageous. How could he leave his job, forfeit half our income, without even running it by me? Worse, he’s paraded around for the entire time we’ve been on vacation as though he has nothing to hide. He’s even talked about completing work while we’ve been here; he’s completely gone out of his way to deceive me. When I finally look in the mirror, I see a tired, haggard reflection, a woman who is on the brink of losing what little patience she has left.

I exit the bathroom, jumping back in an instant when I realize there’s another person lurking in the hallway. It’s Vincent, seemingly waiting for his turn to use the hall bathroom.

“You scared me,” I say, clapping a hand over my chest to calm my beating heart.

“I have to stop making a habit of that.” He smiles.

He does have an almost phantom-like quality. Ever since he arrived at the house, he’s seemed to appear in quiet, unsuspecting moments, like a ghost. I move to the left, giving him access to the bathroom, but he stands still.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your argument with Andrew. I wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

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