Page 5 of Cruel Summer

She didn’t know what to do with this.

She really did want to run away. To take a break from this, because he was right, she hated confrontation.

But especially with him, because it was just so rare, and she’d never really had a great idea about how to navigate it. She preferred to hide from it and let it blow over.

And he’d brought her here, to the neon beer signs and blaring country music, so she couldn’t do just that.

“We think lifehasto look like this. We think it’s the only way to live, the only way to be in a marriage, because it’s what we were told. Why can’t we question that? Can we at leaststartat questioning it?”

She didn’t have an answer to that. Neither of them took a bite of their food.

“Let’s just box it up,” she said, feeling tired, and very much like she needed to be able to go into a room—any room—and lock the door and just sit in silence for a minute.

“If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, it’s what I want.”

He signaled the waitress, who came back and looked at them like they were insane for asking for boxes for untouched food.

“Can we get an extra box of rolls?” he asked. “Also to go.”

Damn him. For knowing she still wanted the rolls. For transforming just enough to make her feel like the wind was knocked out of her and her whole life was turned on its side, but not enough to be a total, monstrous stranger.

They walked outside and she stopped in the middle of the parking lot, looking at the row of cars, which contained three black SUVs that looked just like theirs and seemed to somehow underline the things he was saying to her.

She’d always loved their life because it was theirs.

She hadn’t thought about how much like their neighbors they were.

He seemed to think they had all these things because they were held hostage by some kind of need to be the same, but she’d just felt like she was a middle-of-the-road person.

There was a reason things were mainstream, after all.

That she liked rosé,Bridgertonand iPhones had nothing to do with the influence of others. It was just that she liked what a lot of people did. Same as she had the sort of normal life most other people did.

She’d done her best to be…good.

She and Will had done one thing that everyone had known about and viewed as bad. As sinful and out of order, and she’d been running from that shame ever since. But the running path was very nice. It was a good life with a good husband and beautiful kids.

She’d never questioned it.

Not even once.

They got into the car, and the leather suddenly felt sticky rather than welcoming and soft, and she didn’t know if that was a real thing or a her thing.

“How do you see our life?” she asked, the question sounding muted.

“What do you mean?”

“I see our life as being…special. Because we have a great relationship. We’ve been married for twenty-two years, and I’m still so…” Her breath suddenly felt sharp. “I’m still so happy to live in our house and be in our life. I don’t care what other people do or what they have. I didn’t marry you to be normal. I just am…normal.”

He put the car in Reverse, his eyes on the backup camera as he eased out of the spot. When they were on the highway that led back to their neighborhood, he finally spoke again.

“I like our life too. But I see our life as limited. We have barriers and walls built up around what we do, and maybe it isn’t even because it’s what we want. It’s because we learned a set of rules a long time ago, and we’re following them without questioning them. Are we…normal because it’s what we want or because it’s what we were taught to do?”

“I don’t get it.”

“Monogamy isn’t the only way to do marriage.”

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