“Miranda, I was married to you for four years. You care about me still. I see proof every time I look at you.”
“Of course I care about you! I don’t want to see you hurt or anything.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I don’t think it’s complicated. I think you aremakingit complicated.” He ran a hand over his head. “I think you’re in love and afraid to admit it.”
I was an open book once again.
He continued, “Because if you do, it means we have to figure out what the hell happened to us.”
I scoffed, agitation immediately flaming to life. “I know what happened to us. You are the only one who is still—after amillionconversations—confused.”
“Alright then. Once more for old time’s sake.” His gaze bore into mine as we faced off. “Tell me what happened to us.”
“Jack!”
“If we are truly broken beyond repair, I want to know why. One more time.”
I balked. “It’s painful to have to stick up for myself over and over again. You should know what happened to us by now. Plus, why are you pushing for me to stay? It wasn’t what we agreed to in the beginning when you proposed this dumb idea.”
“Why am I pushing? We have achildtogether. And maybe I’m just selfish, but you know how I feel about you. I didn’t initially start out with the motive to win you back, but by the time I was saying those vows at that half-assed ceremony, I knew I meant them.”
He continued, “So again. Tell me and I’ll try not to be so dense this time.”
Anger coursed through me. The fact he still didn’t understand proved everything. People chronically tossed my feelings aside. I was only ever treasured in fair weather. No one stayed with me on my hard days or cared to hear my heart when it was broken. Of all the people whoshouldhave cared, my husband topped the list.
I blurted it, my voice almost rising to a yell. “Thebabies, Jack! The babies!”
“And how are they the reason we can’t be together?”
“Because every time my heart got broken, you trampled it.”
“What?”
“Yes, Jack. I was dying and you did not care. You came up with every reason under the sun to be anywhere but with me.”
“I did care, but I was busy! The department needed a lot of help.”
“And the marathon team? They needed your help?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but I was fired up. I kept on.
“And was the gym going out of business withoutyour dedicated membership? Were Cameron and Jules not happy going downtown by themselves for once? Were the Chicago Bears going to dismantle if you didn’t tune in?”
“Miranda—”
“Did you realize that the Nashville Police Department gives you bereavement leave for a miscarriage? And you never took it—not once?”
He cussed and stood from the bench, pacing away, running his hands over his hair. His hallmark sign of discomfort or deep thought.
“You had dinner delivered to me. Or told me to have a girls night, like what I actually needed was a damn pedicure. Or gave me books to read. Or brought homestupidflowers. All of those were a substitute for the only thing I ever asked you for.”
Silence, long and suffocating, fell. The crickets felt suddenly loud.
When he spoke, his voice was a rasp. “Which was what?”
