"That's not the point," I tell him.
"That isverymuch the point," Lincoln counters. "I've told you nothing is going on. I'mnotcheating on you.Nothing'sgoing on between Sarah and me."
"Sarah, who you bend over backwards to defend?"
"Sarah, who youapparentlyhave a bone to pick against, and she hasn't doneanythingto you. Please don't start drama with my coworkers. I have to see them every day."
"And the fact that you see her every day, it never occurred to you that while I'm at the party you should probably make me feel welcome?!"
"Youarewelcome, babe. You were fraternizing and talking with other people, other men, by the way, and I didn't say dick about that,didI?"
I just stare at him, stunned.
"Baby, you pawned me off to other people I didn't know," I remind him quietly.
"You were laughing and having fun with people. What am I supposed to do? Tell Sarah to get away from me like she's freaking garlic to a vampire? She's my coworker, and you were being really stink with her, and she thinks you hate her."
"Is that what she told you?" I ask, my voice small.
"Yeah."
"What else did she tell you, Lincoln? Did she whisper anything else in your ear about me, or how toxic I must be, or whatever the hell it is that you guys talk about me behind my back?"
"Babe…"
"Answer the question. Do you tell her personal things about us? Because if you're starting to include a third person into our marriage, this isn't gonna work."
He takes a breath, one of those long ones where he’s thinking about how to make himself look like the victim.
"I feel like you're pushing me away," he murmurs.
"And why do you feel that way? Because I'm asking questions thatanysane person would ask their partner?"
"I'm just saying… I don't know. Ever since I started making more money and staying out later trying to provide for us, you've been acting—" He stops. "Look. I wanna work through this with you, but I… I am feeling a little bit burned out, and I can't feel burned out at work and then feel burned out when I comehere."
"So I should not ask youanyquestions aboutanythingever again. Right?"
"That's not what I'm saying, but I just don't wanna fight every time I come home."
"Okay. Fair enough," I reply, rising from the bed.
He twists around. "Where are you going?"
"I won't ask you anymore where you've been or what you're doing. From here on out, I will just trust you. And I'm asking you to trust me. So if you come home at four o'clock in the morning and I'm not home, you cannot call me or get mad atmebecause I didn't text you.Right?" I challenge him, watching for the reaction I already know is coming.
"Babe, I have a very good reason as to why I stay out. You staying out late just to spite me is in fact very toxic," he says.
My mouth drops open. The room goes still. My heartbeat drums in my ears.
"And why is all of the blame on me for being toxic, Lincoln?"
The question hangs between us. We both go silent for a beat before he releases a tired puff of air and pushes himself to his feet.
"I'm just going to… I'm going to sleep on the couch," he mutters.
"Fine," I answer, feeling the warmth leave the room as he walks away with it.
He's really just going to give up like that? I lie there staring into the dark, my chest tight. I don’t want him to leave. I wanted him to fight for me, fight for us, and it feels like he does less of that every single day.
