Page 92 of Chosen Road

There was a pause, and then she laughed. “You would have torn his head from his body.”

“With my bare hands,” I growled at even the thought of another man touching my wife.

“So why were you so embarrassed when I got mad?”

“Embarrassed? I was not embarrassed of you. I was angry.”

“No,” she insisted. “Your face was surprised.”

“Surprised is not the same as embarrassed. I was surprised because you are usually cool and under control, especially in public. The fact that you weren’t at first surprised me, then enraged me. I was angry that that wholly insignificant person had such an affect on you. You’ve always been insecure where she was concerned, and I was never interested.”

“Until you were.”

“Even then, I wasn’t. I was hurt and angry. But. I see now the danger of having someone around who has romantic ideas because at my lowest point, she made her move. I should have done something about it. I should have requested a new assistant. I should have listened to you.”

“That made me angry, the fact that you dismissed me.”

“I never once knew that you were angry about it. I thought you believed me and let it go.”

“I do that to avoid confrontation.”

“I would much rather you did what you did today than hold everything in. Maybe we could find a happy medium where you speak, and I listen, and stay away from both extremes?”

“That sounds good.”

“You sound tired. Goodnight, beautiful. I love you, Amber.”

“Goodnight, Gus. I love you, too.

Chapter 29: Right on the Money

Amber

“But, how come you’re sleeping in the guest room instead of with Dad?”

Why must Alex pick the dinner table to ask his questions? The past several days were horrendous. Gus worked more than usual and Yiayia had a bad cold. After running back and forth between the house, the condo, and trying to fit in extra work all weekend, I packed a bag Sunday evening and moved into the guest room.

I carefully set my fork down and wiped my face with my napkin, studiously avoiding looking at Gus whose leg was tucked under mine, and Yiayia, our resident sex cheerleader.

“Bah,” Yiayia exclaimed, her voice still raspy from her cold. “I sleep separate from Pappou all the time.”

This was a blatant lie. They never slept apart a day in their lives all the time we lived with them.

“Really?” I challenged, and she twinkled back at me.

Gus chuckled beside me.

“Yes,” she replied. “Pappou, sometimes he snore like a… like a…” She struggled to find the English word for what she wanted.

“Pig?” Alex supplied helpfully.

She shook her head. “No, no pig. Like a … is big cow with wavy horns,” she explained.

“An ox?” Gus asked.

She huffed impatiently. “No! Is cow, Canadian cow.”

“Canadian cow?” I whispered, baffled. “Yiayia, what is a Canadian cow?”

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