Page 31 of The Marriage Game

Liam

Whatever. It’s fine

I don’t have to be a parenting expert to know it’s not actually fine. But is it just the way he found out that’s upsetting him or is there more to it? Is he, like his mom, upset that I'm running at all? Is my whole family secretly against me continuing to work for the government?

Max

Liam, do you not want me to run for attorney general?

The typing dots appear and disappear multiple times before his response finally comes through.

Liam

Idk not like it matters what I think

Not like it matters?

Max

Of course it matters!

I press the FaceTime audio button on his name, but he doesn’t answer. Instead a text comes through.

Liam

Can’t talk headed out

I frown wondering if I should call my in-laws and ask them to tell Liam to call me. Then again, maybe they really are leaving. Liam only has an iPad, so he can’t make calls unless he’s got Wi-Fi.

The thing is, even if he’s lying to me I really don’t feel like talking to my in-laws right now anyway. Not when I’m fighting with their daughter and also unable to stop myself from feeling slightly irritated with them for outing me to my kids.

No, not outing. That implies that my secret was something inappropriate or wrong. I’m irritated that they told them something that I wanted to be the one to tell them.

With a heavy sigh I text him that we’ll talk later then slide my phone back into my pocket.

It’s almost five anyway. If I don’t want to be late I really need to head back for the welcome reception. Or do I? Truthfully, I don’t feel like socializing right now. If I text Jill now that I’m not going she can come up with an excuse for me. Or skip herself and just tell everyone we lost track of time because we were…what? Sleeping? Talking? Having sex? I simultaneously experience an urge to laugh at the absurdity of this last one and a rush of heat through my body at the idea of an afternoon spent with Jill in our room here at the lodge.

I can’t remember the last time we missed something or were even late to something because of sex. Much as I still enjoy and want to have sex with my wife, these days the occurrences seem to be few and far between. I used to ask more, but half the time she turned me down and the other half she seemed to just be appeasing me. It left me wondering if she was even attracted to me anymore. I’m definitely attracted to her, that’s for sure.

She’s aged, sure, just like I have, but my eyes still catch on the softness of her curves, the silky blonde strands of her hair, and her beautiful smile. The one that makes me want to captureher mouth with mine just so I can experience the taste of her happiness—

I groan and shake my arms out, trying to reset the path of my mind. I’m supposed to be angry at Jill, not getting all hot and bothered at the mere idea of her. Even if she is still the most gorgeously tempting woman I know.

Even though I’m unsure about attending the reception, I decide to turn back regardless. If I’m truly sorry for storming off, then I should go find Jill and talk to her. I’ll even be sure to not berate her about her parents telling Liam and Ellie before I had the chance to.

It seems like it takes far longer to get back to the lodge than it did to walk out here, so much so that I start to stress about time. Unfortunately when I take my phone out to check the time it’s dead. The battery life has been declining on it, and I’ve been meaning to get a new one, but life has been busy. Now I’m paying the price.

Feeling slightly panicked about the time, I pick up my pace, half-jogging until the lodge comes back into view. Almost immediately I spot Jill. She’s standing by our rental car, phone pressed to her ear, eyes scanning the horizon. One guess who she’s calling.

Setting my shoulders I set off in her direction, calling her name. When she hears me she drops her phone, and the relief I see on her face makes guilt ricochet through me. It was a crummy, crummy thing to walk out on her.

I don’t have much time to reflect on this, though, because a second later her relief morphs into the human version of the red-faced emoji with the swear word coming out of its mouth. That’s right, somehow Jill—who rarely, if ever, actually swears— is managing to cuss me out with saying anything at all.

My forward movement dies faster than a car out of gas, but her brisk pace more than makes up for my hesitation eliminating the distance between us far too quickly.

“Why do you never answer your phone?” she hisses as soon as she’s close. Immediately I bristle at her tone. Isn’t she supposed to be apologizing for earlier? “First you storm out on me—real mature by the way—then you ignore my dozens of phone calls, then you don’t even bother to show up for the welcome reception? I may have been thinking about sabotaging your campaign, but you seem hellbent on sabotaging our marriage!”

Every shred of apology in me vanishes. “I’msabotaging our marriage?” I hiss back. “Me? What about you, Jill? It’s not like this is the first time you’ve failed to communicate with me about your feelings. Instead of telling me stuff you’re always venting to your sisters.” She flushes and I know I’ve hit higher moral ground. Well, maybe not highermoralground. But at least I’ve got a few points in the ‘who’s right in this fight’ game. “Last I checked your sisters aren’t part of our marriage,” I add with vengeful relish.

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