Page 4 of October
My jaw clenched. "It's October."
She gave me a practiced smile. "Right. Creative, I guess."
"I'm here to see my husband."
She tilted her head. "If he was expecting you, I'm sure he would've told me. He's in with the regional team. Very important meeting."
And yet, somehow, when the baby let out a soft cry, Thomas appeared almost instantly.
The second he saw me, his face shifted, confused and concerned
"October? What's wrong? Is the baby okay?"
"We need to talk."
His eyes flicked to the conference room, then back to me. "Now? I have—"
"Now."
He sighed like I was another problem to be solved, another unexpected variable in a day full of carefully managed chaos. Then he opened the door to his office and waved me in. I stepped past Laura. She didn't move. She didn't need to. Inside, I placed the carrier on the couch. My hands didn't shake, but something deep inside me did. I pulled the envelope from my bag and dropped it onto his desk, watching him flinch like it was a bomb about to go off.
He glanced at it, confused. "What is that?"
"You tell me," I shot back, trying to keep my voice steady.
He opened it, his face changing in a flash from confusion to frustration as he saw what it was. "It's cash. Until your real gift comes in. I told you I'd get you something special."
I could feel the heat in my chest, the sting in my throat. "You mean after you skipped out on my birthday and ran off to look for Laura's damn cat?"
He froze. "That's not fair," he snapped, his voice rising a little. "It was a lost animal. She was upset. We didn't expect it to take so long. I was just helping her out."
"It wasmybirthday, Thomas," I ground out, my voice barely holding together.
He shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tightening. "I was going to surprise you, okay? With the kids. We had it planned. And then—"
"You prioritizedher."
His eyes narrowed, frustration bubbling up like a pot on the verge of boiling over. "That's not true. That's not what happened at all."
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but it only made the pain worse. "And then this—thisenvelope." I gestured to it, still sitting between us like a mocking reminder. "What is this, Thomas? What the hell is this supposed to be?" My voice was trembling now. "You leave me an envelope of cash like some... like a prostitute? Like I'm some kind of transaction you can just pay off when you screw up?"
His face flickered with shock, but then, almost immediately, he hardened. "Oh God, you'reexaggerating," he said, as if he couldn't understand how deeply it cut. "It's just cash, October. I didn't have time to get anything else. I'll get you the gift I promised. I just didn't think it would be that big of a deal."
I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. How could he not see it? "You didn'tthinkit would be a big deal? You didn't think that a gesture like this would be insulting? That this—" I looked at the envelope again, disgust crawling through me, "—wasn't a real apology? That you're treating me like a chore? Like something you just throw money at when you don't feel like showing up? When did you stop caring? When did you stop caring aboutYour Wifeinstead of yourworkwife!"
His eyes flashed, his defenses slamming up like a wall between us. "Workwife? What does that even mean? You think I don't care about you? You think I'm not doing all this—everything—for us? For the kids? You think I like this? I've got meetings, targets, deadlines, my father coming intoday, and you waltz in here, throwing a tantrum, accusing me of being a bad husband? This is who I am, October!"
I stared at him, hurt flashing through me like lightning. "I used to know who you were. I used to admire it—your dedication, your ambition. But now..." My voice faltered for a moment. "Now, it's just a wall between us, and you know what? It's a wall that Laura has no problem climbing over."
His breath caught. He stared at me for a long moment, and then he sighed, like he was trying to calm himself down. "Maybe you're just hormonal or tired. It's been a long week, okay?"
I recoiled, the words stinging like he'd slapped me across the face. "Hormonal? Is that what you think this is?"
He didn't even seem to notice the way his words cut. "We'll talk at home. Later. When you've calmed down. We're both just... on edge." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking frustrated. "I don't have time for this right now. My father is coming in twenty minutes, and you're just being dramatic."
I shook my head, the pressure of everything mounting until I couldn't breathe. "You disappear on my birthday and goes to Laura and you think I'm just being dramatic?"
"October, I'm doing the best I can," he said, his voice softer now, but still defensive. "She's just a coworker. There's nothing between us."
