Damn, I know husband-and-wife arguments are part of the deal, but hell, being answerable to someone still gets under my skin every damn time. And right now, trying to stay in control feels like a losing battle.
“It’s my house, Anna.” I fucking know how that sounds, but the words are out before I can pull them back.
She plants her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing.
“No, it’sourhouse, Landon. You don’t just make these decisions without talking to me.”
That fucking fire in her voice, one that used to turn me on… Now it just reminds me of how fucked up married life really is. How something that once felt electric now feels like walking through a minefield.
I set my mug down harder than necessary. “It’s for a couple of days, Anna. Not an entire lifetime. You are acting like I invited a biker gang.”
“You might as well have,” she snaps. “You and Tony turn into frat boys when you’re together. Drinking, parties, no responsibility—”
“That’s rich, coming from someone who used to love watching us get drunk.”
“That was back then, when we were in college. I thought you’d grow up eventually!”
“And you thought marrying me would fast-track the process? Turn me into some dutiful husband?” I laugh bitterly. “But here’s the thing. That’s not who I’m. And you knew that right from the start. So don’t act shocked now.”
Her eyes widen, her breath catching as her chest rises and falls quickly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Not holding back, I blurt out what’s been eating at me. “It’s like I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I’ve been playing the picture-perfect husband for so damn long that somewhere along the way… I’ve lost track of who the hell I really am.”
She just stares at me, as if she’s unable to believe what I’m saying. Anger and hurt wrestle in her eyes, fighting to break through.
And for a moment, neither of us speak.
“I’ve done nothing but love you,” she finally whispers. “I built this life with you… the life thatyouwanted. And now you’re blamingmebecauseyoudon’t even know whoyouare?”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying… I don’t know if this is me anymore. Or if I’m even truly happy playing the dutiful husband. Maybe being this husband material isn’t cut out for me.” I drag a hand down my face and let out a long breath. “Hell, I wanted this. I know I did. But now… I just don’t know anymore.”
The words taste like guilt on my tongue, but they’re the truth. It’s not the sex with random women I miss… Hell, Anna’s the only one I’ll ever want. What I miss… is the freedom. The nights I didn’t have to answer to anyone, when I could drown myself in drinks and forget the world. I hate myself for even thinking about it, but honestly some days, I do.
And maybe that’s what scares me the most.
Anna blinks back tears as she crosses her arms tightly across her chest.
“Fine. Let your friend stay. Party all you want. Trash the place. Maybe that’ll help you feel like yourself again,” she says, her voice brittle but cutting.
I clench my fists at my sides, my jaw locked tight, but I don’t say a word.
Because if I open my mouth right now, I’ll only make things worse. And God knows we’re already hanging by a thread.
???
By the time Tony’s black SUV pulls into the driveway, the sun has long gone. I’m already two beers down and am sitting on the porch with a cold fury simmering beneath my skin. Anna had messaged earlier, saying she wasn’t coming home tonight, that she’d be staying at some goddamn hotel instead.
Tony steps out in his usual way. Jeans and that beaten-up leather jacket. Same cocky grin. Same arrogant swagger. The bastard.
“Damn, you look like hell,” he says.
“I feel like it too.”
He tosses his duffel bag to the side and drops into the chair beside me. “Trouble in paradise?”
I take a long sip of my beer before answering. “Paradise was an illusion.”
Tony nods slowly, reading between the lines. “Let me guess… the whole domestic bliss thing isn’t exactly suiting you.”
