Page 17 of Diesel
“I can’t do that.”
I hate to say it. It makes it seem like I don’t want to fix this between us and I do, but I need to breathe first, find my strength before I confront this.
His nostril flare just once. “Why not?”
“Because… because I need space to think, to breathe. I ran because I couldn’t do that at home.”
I wish I could take those words back. Hurt ripples across his face before he shuts it down, his impassive mask hiding the truth.
“You needed to escape me?”
I fiddle with the sleeve of my sweater, unable to look at him. I don’t want to see how much I’m hurting him. “You didn’t leave me much choice.”
He doesn’t speak, and not because he’s furious or upset. He’s processing what I said.
I wait a beat, and then another. Then he hands me the fork.
“Please eat more.”
I stare at it. It feels like a bridge between us and if I don’t take it there will be no way back for us.
I take it from him, the metal heavy in my hand.
“You never need to escape me, Makenna,” he says quietly, rasping like the words are strangled in heartbreak.
“Right, because you would have let me go if I’d asked?” He doesn’t answer, whichisthe answer. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Zane. I just can’t keep living like this. You disappear for weeks at a time, then turn up in the middle of the night like a ghost. We have sex, you hold me like I’m the most precious thing you’ve ever touched, andthen I wake alone.” My chest aches and I swallow back my tears. “I’m worth more than just being a warm bed for you.”
His stare drops to my hands before he looks away. “You’re worth everything, but I don’t know how to make you believe that.”
That guts me. It’s a physical pain that spreads through my chest.
“Words are cheap. You say these things, but you don’t show them.” A tear rolls down my cheek and his jaw ticks as he follows it path. “You keep me around because I’m familiar, because it’s better than being alone, but I need more than that. I need a husband who is present, who isn’t hiding me away like a dirty secret.” I stand slowly, every bone in my body feeling like lead. “It’s late and I’m exhausted. I’ll stay tonight.”
I don’t say only tonight. I don’t need to. The unspoken words hang between us like a noose, only I’m not sure whose neck it’s around—his or mine.
He straightens the bowl and the fork. Then does it again as if it wasn’t right. He’s not going to let me leave tomorrow either, and we both know it, but for now he gives me the illusion of control.
I don’t breathe properly until I leave the kitchen. The air is thinner in the living room, easier to draw into my lungs. I sink onto the couch, grabbing the blanket I was using before and settling it around me. Maybe if I can sleep for a few hours things will feel?—
“What are you doing?” His voice is like steel, and I snap my head around instinctively.
He’s standing in the doorway, his shoulders twitching like he’s resisting the urge to move toward me.
“Sleeping.”
“Not on that fucking couch.”
I lie down, ignoring him and tuck my feet up under the blanket. It smells a little musty and I don’t like the way it feels scratchy, but I’m not climbing into bed next to him as if nothing has changed.
“You’re not a fucking stray and there’s a perfectly good bed upstairs.”
I sit back up. “This isn’t couples therapy, Zane. I gave you divorce papers. I left. I’m not crawling in behind you like nothing has changed.
I can’t open myself to him like that right now. I don’t have the strength to keep up my defences if I do. “You get in the bed or I’ll put you in it.”
I surge to my feet, tired and irritated. “You’re a dick when you’re being bossy.”
My feet pound on the stairs as I rush up them, my jaw locked so tight my teeth are grinding together. I can hear him behind me on the stairs, but I don’t look back.
