Once I’m sure she won’t wake up, I grab the monitor and head to the kitchen. I can smell the stir-fry. Brooke’s sitting on the sofa, feet planted on the ground.
I drop beside her, leaning back because I’ve already resigned myself to a fight. “You wanted to talk,” I say flatly. “So, talk.”
She raises a brow at me, then shakes her head slowly. “Why are you acting like an ass?”
I let out a sharp laugh. “I’m acting like an ass? How?”
She doesn’t hesitate. “Ever since Penny was born you’ve changed. First it was about inviting your mom when I asked you not to. Then you hid money problems from me. And now you’re acting like a condescending shit because I won’t stay barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.”
I clench my jaw. “I kicked my ma out of my life foryou.I dealt with the money soyou wouldn’t have to.And now I’m givingyou the chance to stay home with our child, but sure, call me an asshole.”
“I don’twantto stay home!” she yells, loud enough to make the baby monitor hiss for a second. She jabs her hand toward the hallway, toward Penny’s room. “And you didn’t kick your mom out because of me, you did it because she wouldn’t acceptus.And you didn’t tell me about the money because you don’t think it’smine.”
I push up from the chair; she’s putting words in my mouth. “I never said that.”
My mouth opens, the words catching somewhere in my chest. “You really think I’m like that?”
Brooke’s voice doesn’t shake, but I can feel everything behind it anyway. “I didn’t. Not at first.” She exhales. “But ever since we had Penny, it’s like you became this…sexist, I’m the man of the houseperson. And I don’t even think you realize it.”
Her eyes glisten, not with tears but disappointment. “You want me to stay home.You.Not me. And somehow, I’m the bad one for saying no.”
“I thought you’d want to,” I say, weakly. It sounds pathetic the second it leaves my mouth.
“I don’t,” she says firmly. “I love our daughter, just like you do. But Ido notwant to be a stay-at-home mom. And if you would for one second take your ‘I provide’ mentality out of it and think practically, you would see how impossible that is.”
I open my mouth but Brooke holds up a hand and goes on.
“What happens if something goes wrong? If we lose your income? What then? I’ve got no experience other than as a flight attendant. I can’t just pick that back up after ten years, evenfive. We live in New York, Matthew. We wouldn’t even be able to afford this apartment on a waitress’s salary, let alone buy a house.”
My chest tightens, and the words slip out before I can stop them. “It’s like you’re… preparing for me to fail.”
“I’m preparing for life,” she fires back. “Because lifehappens.People lose jobs, people get sick, people leave. I can’t just hand over my entire future and hope nothing bad will ever happen.”
Something sharp twists in my gut. “I don’t want you tohand it over.I just-” I stop myself, because what I’m about to say sounds exactly like what she’s accusing me of.
Her voice softens, but it doesn’t lose its edge. “You grew up in a single mom household. I’ve heard you say multiple times, how she held everything together. How you never wanted for anything.”
“I didn’t,” I murmur.
“Then why, do you insist on me staying home?”
I stare at her. “I never missed my dad,” I say quietly. “But I missed my ma. All the damn time. She was always working, always tired. I don’t want Penny to be like that, growing up with a mom she barely sees.”
Her jaw tightens. “And I don’t want her to grow up with a mom who has nothing of her own. Who wakes up one day and realizes she can’t stand on her own two feet if she has to.”
I drop back onto the sofa, the exhaustion of the entire day pressing down on me. After hours of running afterDan the Duckand dealing with everyone else’s mess, I don’t have much left in me to fight her.
Brooke stays standing, hands clenched at her sides, her breathing steady but sharp. Her voice is quiet, when she says. “Penny will never be alone. Because she has two parents who willalwaysbe there for her. But I want a partner who can be in the places I can’t, without making me feel guilty for it.”
I lift my eyes to hers, the weariness settling into something colder. “What are you saying?”
She swallows, her throat working as if the words scrape coming out. “Maybe we rushed into this. Marriage. Parenthood. Without ever really knowing what the other person wants.”
For a second, everything inside me stills.
“Give me the man I married back,” she says, voice breaking just enough to hurt. “Or I’m done.”
With that she turns and walks away.
