Page 268 of Mangled Memory
I breathe deeply, getting my anger in check and failing. I finish the glass of wine in one go, refilling it, skipping the aerator entirely on the nearly full stem.
I sit in that awful silence, drinking the next glass, stewing on what she’s said.
“I, uh?—”
“Don’t.” It’s a command, and she knows it. She better not finish that thought.
I get up, put my plate in the dishwasher, and throw the now empty wine bottle in the trash with enough force, the sound of it shattering echoes off the walls.
Ayla flinches and curls tighter into a protective ball on the bar stool.
“Are you afraid?”
She bows up, chin rising loud and proud, and blurts, “No.”
“But you were?”
Her eyes drop to her hands, and she stills her body before taking a deep breath. “I couldn’t know.”
“You couldn’t know what? That I didn’t try to kill you? Are you seriously sitting there telling me that you figured out yesterday that all my worry, my grief, my lost sleep, my panicand guilt wasn’t an act? It’s been months. Months! And you lived here wondering if I failed in an attempt to kill you?”
And fuck if my wife doesn’t surprise me.
She stands, lifts her chin, and flips a long middle finger at me.
“Don’t you dare act wounded, Christian. You didn’t wake up blind, deaf, and dumb, maybe not literally, but whatever. I woke up to a life I did not know, people I’d never met, with no clue how I got here. I couldn’t figure out who to trust, where I was safe, and how to fight my way back to me. Fuck you for not assuming that I was smart enough to suspect everyone or shrewd enough not to trust the info blindly.”
I open my mouth.
“Oh, no you don’t. Liam told me I could trust you, and I trust Liam, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt.”
“How was that the benefit of the doubt?” My voice is too loud and belies my anger.
“Oh, I don’t know. Let’s see. I fucking lived here, didn’t I? I slept next to a stranger who, I repeat, I did not know. Unconscious, vulnerable. I didn’t move out. I didn’t expect you to walk on eggshells. How was it not the benefit of the doubt? Did you not risk the very same thing?”
“How do you figure?”
“Why would you assume I wasn’t a danger to you?”
My shoulders sag and the breath leaves me from my toes in an exhale. Setting both my hands on the island, I lean in and give her my undivided attention. My voice is calm when I quietly reply, “Because, Princess, Iknowyou. I’m not writing off your temper or your follow-through. I’ve caught the sharp edge of your tongue before and surely will again. But your heart isn’t that of a psychopath.”
“I—”
I cut her off. “It never dawned on me that you might hurt me.” I stare at my wedding ring. “When we stood before our families to pledge our lives to each other, I knew exactly who I was choosing. You’re smart, funny, and kind. You’re also quick to anger, slow to forgive, and an act-first, think-second kind ofwoman. I knew that too. You’re only a danger to me if you are to yourself. I’ll survive anything but losing you.”
Her eyes are wide. Her cheeks are flushed. “I could’ve, you know.”
I fight the smirk on my lips. “Are you standing here, honestly telling me that you could’ve taken me out? I got your point, baby. I get that you were scared but pushed through. I understand that you did the best you could. But are you really going there?”
She shrugs.
“You’re never boring. Our life has been nuts over the last six months, that’s a fact. But I’ll never be bored.” I stare to the heavens, letting my heart rate settle and my frustration leave me entirely. “Come here, Ayla.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and digs her heels in.
“I want to apologize properly, and I can’t do that without you agreeing.”
She tilts her head, as if considering my words before rounding the island, stopping just out of arm’s reach.
