Page 13 of Wishing Stone

“Yeah, maybe,” was my only reply.

“Alright, if all is okay, I’ve got to be going. I need to prep for a conference call scheduled with Kinsley Properties. I shouldn’t be home too late today. I hope to leave the office by four and be home by five. Call me if you need anything in the meantime.”

“Will do.”

“I love you, angel.”

“Love you, too. I’ll see you when you get home.”

As I placed my phone back on my desk, my stomach began to rumble again, reminding me that I still hadn’t gotten lunch. I pushed away the pang of guilt I felt over my lie and absently rubbed a hand over the impatient little bundle of joy growing inside of me.

“Your daddy can be crazy and overbearing, but I still can’t wait to tell him about you,” I whispered, then hurried to the kitchen to grab us a bite to eat.

6

Krystina

“Iam not discussing this!” Alexander boomed, his voice echoing off the tall ceilings in his home office. His eyes angrily flashed as he stood up and began to pace. His five o’clock shadow seemed to add a dangerous edge to his already savage mood.

We were more than halfway through our monthly therapy session with Dr. Tumblin, and Alexander, as usual, was trying to control the direction of the conversation. But unfortunately, I’d thrown him for a loop when I brought up the compulsory quarantine that he’d imposed on me for the past twelve months. Dr. Tumblin wanted to discuss it further, but my husband wasn’t having it.

Dr. Tumblin sat unperturbed, watching us through the laptop computer screen sitting on a small round table before me. I sighed and leaned back in my chair. I knew Alexander would be angry with me for telling the psychiatrist about my isolation, even though the whole reason we had these sessions was to help keep Alexander’s controlling nature in check. While we usually functioned just fine as a couple, we both knew how easily his domineering nature could take over our lives. Navigating his need for control with my need for independence could sometimes be a tricky balancing act.

“Alex, you can’t avoid this,” Dr. Tumblin said patiently.

“Can’t I?” Alexander shot back testily.

“Look, Alex. Krystina pushed very hard to get you to open up to me—to be truthful during our sessions. We’ve made great progress, and you’ve both said you were happier as a couple because of it. Why are you choosing to shut down after all this time? Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing,” Alexander bit out.

Turning in my chair, I glanced back at my husband to see him shove his hands through his dark waves. He was pacing like a trapped animal looking for an escape and I was reminded of why I never put my foot down about his asinine rules in the first place. When he got like this, there was no reasoning with him. He was too stubborn.

Alexander had always gone above and beyond to give me anything I could ever want. But the thing I’d wanted most was to have everything back to normal. I’d wanted my life back—people, restaurants, shopping, and parties. It sounded superficial, but the human element to those things made it so much more. But then I’d found out that I was pregnant, and all the speeches I’d planned in front of the mirror about why I shouldn’t be quarantined had been thrown out the window. Now, just thinking about desiring any of those things made me feel incredibly selfish. It didn’t matter how isolated I felt. This wasn’t just about me anymore. I had a baby to think about too, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t torn. I wanted normalcy, but I also wanted the safety Alexander demanded.

“Alex, please sit down,” I said. “There’s no reason to be angry. I understand why you have these rules. I wouldn’t have followed them if I didn’t mostly agree with you. I just think the rules can be a bit extreme—especially with Christmas right around the corner. I’ve told you this before, but you didn’t want to listen. I thought Dr. Tumblin could help us work through it. It’s not just about me either. I mean, the hoops you make Vivian and Hale jump through are a bit over the top, too.”

“Krystina…” Alexander trailed off, but his warning tone was unmistakable.

“What about Vivian and Hale?” Dr. Tumblin asked.

“Our staff has been impacted by this as well. They’ve had to make major adjustments,” I explained. “Even the most basic things, such as buying groceries, has to be done online with curb-side pickup. Vivian detests doing anything that requires technology, so I usually place the grocery order for her. I know she doesn’t like it but will never complain. Hale never complains either. But at least those two get to leave the house on occasion. I feel bad for Alex’s mothers’ nursing staff. They can’t leave at all.”

“Alex, have you made all of these rules just to keep Krystina safe from the pandemic?”

“Yes,” Alexander said through gritted teeth.

“If you’ve been this concerned, why haven’t you mentioned any of this to me before now?” Dr. Tumblin asked.

“Because I didn’t need you to tell me that I was being irrational,” Alexander barked.

“Is that how you feel? Irrational?” Dr. Tumblin prodded. Alexander didn’t respond. Instead, he resumed his silent pacing.

Despite his surly expression, I couldn’t help but notice the way he could effortlessly own the room. His tall frame commanded power and radiated prestige. I wondered if a day would ever come when I would tire of watching him. Even when he was irritated, he was impossibly gorgeous, and I couldn’t help the magnetic pull I felt whenever I was near him.He was the other half of my soul, and I wouldn’t be able to survive without him.

Alexander shoved a hand through his dark hair that was already unruly from the way he’d been running his fingers through it in frustration.His sapphire eyes swirled with conflicted emotion, and his lips were drawn into a grim line. It was as if he was torn—knowing I was right about how he’d forced me into isolation but also unwilling to change his position on the matter.

I fought the urge to go to him, wanting to apologize for bringing any of this up. After all, it wasn’t that big of an issue. But then again, maybe it was. Alexander and I had been through similar things before, and it was why we decided to keep our monthly couple’s therapy sessions with Dr. Tumblin. Surprisingly, it had been Alexander’s idea. He’d said that he didn’t need the psychiatrist to help him work through his past issues any longer but admitted that he still had significant control issues. He worried that his need to control everything in his life—including me—could be detrimental to our relationship, and he wanted Dr. Tumblin to point out his more irrational urges. Up until recently, that had worked, and Alexander and I spent the past four years in relative harmony.

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