“I think I do.”
Her expression is more resentment than remorse. “Speaking of things we shouldn’t have done, why thehelldid you look upBrooke’s phone number and go to her house? Why didn’t you talk to me first?”
“Oh, like you talked to me before you went on the registry?” I feel my pulse throbbing in my temple.
She pulls in a sharp breath. Her cheeks puff out as she exhales. “You’re right.” Her voice sounds completely deflated. “I started all this. It’s my fault, and I know it.”
“I don’t want to cast blame,” I say. “I just want to do the right thing now.”
“For whom?”
“For Lily. For the baby. For you.”
“You just named me last. I see where I fall on your list of priorities.” Her voice has a bitter, acidic tone.
“Damn it, Jessica. You’re just looking for things to be mad about.”
“I don’t have to look very far, do I? What about the baby we planned to have together?”
Not again. “Jessica, we’ve tried and tried.”
“We haven’t tried with a donor egg. I told you I’m willing to do that now.”
“Well, I’m not. We’ve got enough on our plates without getting into that.”
“It’s the only thing I want on my plate.”
You only considered it after you learned I have a donor child.I refrain from saying it aloud. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I stand up. “I’m going for a run.”
“You don’t want to talk about having a baby with your wife, even though a stranger is carrying your child? Nice, Zack. Very nice.” She swings herself off the barstool. “I’m going to see if I can catch the flight to Seattle.”
I stand perfectly still. “You’re leaving tonight?”
She lifts her shoulders. “There’s no point in waiting until tomorrow. We’re both too upset to have a civil conversation or get any sleep together.”
She’s right, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I run a hand down my face. “I’m sorry, Jessica.”
“Yeah, well, me, too.”
“Will you do me a favor and at least think about not moving?”
“How can you even ask that?” She throws out her arms, palms up. “There’s nothing to think about. The answer is no. I’m all in at the new job. And I thought you were all in, too.” She takes out her phone and pulls up the airline website.
We’ve always dealt with anger and disagreements in the past by giving each other space to cool down so we don’t say things we’ll regret. Right now, though, it feels as if there’s already too much space between us.
I go into the bedroom and change into my running gear. By the time I return to the kitchen to fill my water bottle, she’s hauling two suitcases out of the hallway closet. “I’m booked on the eight thirty flight,” she says. “I’m going to shower and get to the airport.”
I nod. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Sure. Have a good run.” She gives me a quick peck—you couldn’t really call it a kiss.
My stomach sinks as I watch her disappear into the bedroom. I consider trying to talk to her some more, but I know it’s futile in her current mood. To be truthful, mine isn’t much better.
I put on my headset, turn on Springsteen’s “Born to Run,” and head out the door. I can run off some stress, but I can’t outrun the feeling that our marriage is in serious trouble.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Quinn
