Page 58 of Nothing But It All
“That sounds terrible, I know. But itfeelsterrible too,” I say, blinking back red-hot tears. “I have no outlet. There’s all of this stuff building inside me, and I have no one to talk to about it. It feels like no one cares. So when you do try to have sex with me and haven’t bothered to even talk to me, let alone ask how my day was or take out the trash that’s running over onto the floor, it feels like you’re just asking me to use my body—the last thing that I have that’s mine—for your benefit. And that’s ... hard.”
“Wow.” He blows out a breath, bowing his head. “I need to process that.”
“I’m just frustrated,” I say, my heart thumping. “It’s hard to feel like you’ve skipped off to have a life and left me behind to clean up after you. I have value beyond my homemaking skills, you know.”
The irritation gathered at the corners of his eyes is there, but it’s softened. The blaze in his eyes has calmed a touch. I’m too seasoned to hope he’s actually listened to me.But I wish I weren’t.
“Maybe if you didn’t act like you didn’t want me around, I’d put more emphasis on coming around,” he says. “It’s really hard to initiate sex when you know you’re going to get turned down, Lo.”
I look at the deck.
“And it hurts a lot fucking worse when you’re getting turned down by the love of your life,” he says. “That’s why I haven’t tried since Thanksgiving weekend.”
I can’t deny the pain in his voice, and I can’t pretend that it’s not warranted. If I’m being honest with myself, he’s not wrong. And that makesmefeel shitty.
The whole thing is complicated and screwed up and awful—and I just want it to end.
Jack stands, causing the boat to rock. “I’m going to hop in the lake and grab the rope. I’ll swim over to that tree over there and get the boat secured. Then we can hike back to the cabin.”
I nod, pulling my gaze to his.
Energy crackles between us. I hold my breath, unsure what’s about to happen.
Will he grab me and kiss me senselessly? Maybe. Is he going to tell me that I’m right and we need to divorce? Possibly. He could tell me he’s equally sick of this and to fuck off—I don’t know.
My heart pounds, and my breathing quickens. A frantic blast of panic races up my spine.
“Jack—”
Splash!He dives into the water, grabs the rope, and swims toward shore.
He doesn’t look back.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LAUREN
You have to get your kids under control—ouch!” I yelp, jerking my arm away from a thornbush. My flip-flops, the absolute worst footwear decision I might’ve ever made, slip on the dirt, and I slide. “They went too far with this.”
Jack stands a few feet up the trail, grinning. “Come on. You’re doing great.”
“Stop.” I check out the scratches on my arm. “Don’t pander to me.”
“Fine. We could’ve been back half an hour ago if you would stop getting into every prickly piece of vegetation you can find. So can you just stay on the trail and move it?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Pander to me.”
He laughs, offering me a hand. I slap my palm in his begrudgingly and let him help me up the slope.
The air is thicker in the forest. Somehow, it’s more humid. Bugs are everywhere, swooping toward my face and landing on my bare legs. I’m not sure if they’re drawn more to my dripping sweat or the specks of blood pricked by the plants. Either way, they love me.
I do not love them.
“Maybe one of our kids can be an insectologist and figure out how to rid the world of gnats,” I say, batting my hand in front of my faceand blowing. “We can go to Mars, but we are still battling gnats. Make it make sense.”
Jack stops and lets go of my hand. I plant my palms on my knees and draw in a long breath, praying I don’t inhale any winged protein.
“Bugs have a place in the ecosystem,” he says, looking amused.
