A laugh falls from my mouth. Her whole life is one big break. “You’re never fucking here for him. Our nanny is more of a mother figure than you. Jesus, you’re a piece of work.”
She sighs out a breath. “I needmetime, Tommy. Time with my friends.”
“You’re out with them every night. How much time do you need?”
“You don’t understand. It’s hard being a mum. I get so tired.”
She’s got some nerve. “You’re tired because you party all night and our son has to wait until noon before you get out of your pit.”
“Hey,” she calls out, throwing her hands in the air. “When you’re away partying with the band for months on end, do I complain?” Her hand rests on her chest as if to emphasise she has a heart. What a joke.
I huff out a laugh. “It’s called working, Chelsea. Yeah, maybe we do kick back and enjoy a little R&R, but nobody partied harder than you during our last tour.”
“You wanted me to be there, Tommy. I didn’t have to come.”
“Then why did you ask? There I was thinking you finally wanted some time with your family. It wouldn’t kill you toget to know Calla and the kids, but you weren’t interested in them either. You know she goes everywhere with Ash, and if you really wanted, you could do the same.”
Placing her hands on her head, she fists her hair between her fingers and turns in the opposite direction, pacing up and down. “Not this again. Saint fucking Calla.”
“Hey, watch your mouth. Don’t you dare speak about her like that.”
“Wow, you’re touchy about your best friend’s wife,” she says, glaring right at me.
Jesus, she has this whole jealousy thing about Calla. It’s driving me insane. “Don’t even attempt to go there. You wouldn’t know what a genuine person was if you fell over one. I’ve known Calla for a long time. She’s a good friend and a fucking awesome wife and mother.”
“Ah, I see. You’re saying I’m not,” she says with her hands on her hips.
“You’ve got that right.”
“Fuck you!” she screams in my face and flies into a rage while searching through her wardrobe.
“Hey, keep it down, mother of year. You don’t want to wake our boy,” I say sarcastically. She ignores me completely and when she finds her black leather jacket, she slings it over her shoulder and storms past me into the lounge.
As I follow, I make my feelings clear. “I don’t know what plans you had tonight, but you need to cancel them. We’ve got issues to talk about.”
“Not happening,” she spits over her shoulder.
“Don’t push me, Chelsea.”
“Oh, rot in hell, why don’t you! I hate you!”
I stare for a moment, letting her words sink in. “Okay, now the truth is coming out.” I raise my brows.
“I think it’s time, don’t you?”
“Well, if you hate me so much, why are we still married?”
She falls silent, but I know the answer. She likes the lifestyle and, so far, I’ve let her get away with anything and everything just so my son has some kind of home. I’m no longer sure living in a marriage full of hate is the best environment for a little kid.
She sighs, then saunters over with a pout. Her fingers link around the back of my neck as she rises onto her toes. Her lips press to mine, but I make a point of not kissing her back. “Baby, I’ll just be gone a few hours?—”
“No.” I grip her wrists and rip her hands away from me. “You’re not going.”
“How dare you,” she hisses. “I will do whatever the hell I like. Jesus,” she mutters. “I’ve got a good mind to stay out all night.”
“If that happens, we’re done. Your choice.” She’s pushing me and I’m getting to the point where I don’t care how things end between us.
“You wouldn’t dare. You need me too much.”
