Well, Terra does anyway. Tati? Not so much. She’s our demure, quiet queen.
It’s when we hear Terra giggle and squeal, "gwitter!" that I see Sarah’s eye twitch. My wife of eight years then makes a growling noise low in her throat that I’ve heard plenty of times, though usually it's directed at me. “Enough,” she chokes out. “I’ve hadenough.”
Setting Tati back downinsidethe house, Sarah storms over to the stove, clicking it off entirely, and shoving her fingers through the long,blond hair at her scalp. She puffs out a breath before leveling me with the gloweriest of all glowers.
I wince. Think, Gannett.Think. What the fuck can I say to her right now to make it all better? This has to be my fault somehow; I’m sure of it. “I’m…sorry?”
The look on her face right now tells me all I need to know: I truly—royally—fucked all the way up. I’m sitting atop Mount Shitstorm right now. Planted my "I’m King Dumbass" flag in the ground and everything.
Oh, I amsonot getting laid tonight. Our marital bed will have a divide of Arctic tundra right down the middle—a chasm which will surely let Blackbeard know his presence is unwanted.
Yeah, I named my dick after the notorious swashbuckler. I know, I’m thirty, and it’s probably considered immature, but quite frankly, I haven’t a single fuck to give. He’s my matey; he gets a name.
She spins on her heels and storms off down to our hall-closet, all without a word. If I listenrealclosely, however, I’m sure there’s probably a slight whistle from the steam roiling out from her ears. Shit, is she about to go all dragon on me and snuff me out with a snort from her flared nostrils? If she opens her mouth in my direction, I’msograbbing a fire extinguisher.
Don’t say it, Gan. Donotsay— “Sarah, would you just calm down, please?”
Oh… shit. You fucking said it.
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I cower, bracing for impact. When she whips around to face me, what can only be described asfuryis blazing in her eyes. One of her painted-red, razor-sharp talons pokes me in my sternum. The rage of a thousand pissed off hornets doesn’t even hold a candle to what she’s practically vibrating with right now.
We don’t even own a dog, but if we did, I’m almost positive I’d be bunking with it tonight.
“I am taking the weekend to go to my parents,” she seethes, brushing past me and into our bedroom, suitcase in hand. “When I get back, I want yououtof this house. We’ll settle everything with our divorce when I’m more level-headed. Am I clear?”
Wait…what?!
“Sarah, you can’t just suddenly decide we’re getting a divorce!” I cry out, stepping in and reaching for her.
She presses her palm to my chest, keeping me at arm’s length. She shakes her head, her glower morphing into something that looks more like pity. “You don’t get it, do you?” she asks in a voice that’s darker than shadows at midnight. “There’s nothingsuddenabout this. If you’re blindsided by it, that sounds like ayouproblem…”
I stagger back, appalled. I shake my head. “No. Come on, Sarah. Please, don’t do this.”
“It’s already done, Gannett. I’ve had the paperwork on my desk for a while now. It’s time. We’re not the same people we were in our twenties. I’ve grown up,” she remarks, gesticulating at me again. “You’ve…”
“What?” I scoff. “I’vewhat? You might as well just say it.”
Spinning around, she sighs, hefting the suitcase up and thumping it open on our bed. “This isitfor you,” she replies. “And the fuck of it all is, you don’t even see a problem with it! We’re married, but there is nopartnership, for crying out loud! You spend more time with the guys at the bar than you do at home helping me raise our girls! I’ve been single without actually being single for a long goddamn time, and yet… you don’t everseethat.”
“I can work on it!” I balk, throwing my hands up. “Sarah, I can do better!”
“I shouldn’t have toaskyou to do better! What don’t you get? If I have to beg you to be an active participant in this marriage, I don’t want it! That’s not who I am! I don’t—and Iwon’t—beg anyone for their attention! Your general cluelessness may have been endearing when we started dating, but I should have known there’d be no way you would eventually grow out of it. My parents were right, I shouldn’t have tofixanyone.”
It’s all I can do to not bite back atthatcomment. Sheldon and Lainey Babcock have always made it clear as crystal—akin to the precious Swarovski that their mansion is abundantly adorned with—that I was never worthy of being with their only little girl. There was a time, back when Sarah and I first started dating, where she would have to stick up for me all too often—but that was before I stopped attending family functions with them. There’s only so much one can take when it comes to her parents.
What was it I overheard her father call me once? Oh, yeah.A blue-collar low-life. One who was clearly only with her to leach off her family’s inheritance. I’ll have those assholes know, I have worked my blue-collar ass off to keep our family fed, housed, and clothed. We want for nothing here, and it’s because I fuckin’ hustle for it.
Most days I wake up before the sun even has a chance to. I’ve taken Dad’s business from mediocre to formidable—Wagner and I, we’re two of the top lobstermen in the Downeast region. There’s not a captain out there that can keep up with the Ternbay Twosome. Our boats are two of the top producers in Maine—hell, New England. Lobstering isn’t big money, no, but it has provided for us well enough.
None of that matters though. I’m just scum-of-the-earth to them. All because I don’t wear an executive suit and have dirt under my nails instead. Now, it appears she’s taken their side in their assumptions of me. I am useless. Pathetic.A low-life lush.
“Sarah,” I say her name, pleading with her to look up at me as she throws clothes haphazardly into her suitcase. I need her to see the genuine hurt in my eyes. “Sarah, please look at me.”
“No,” she replies firmly. “I can’t do that, because I know when I look at you, I’m going to see that hurt puppy expression on your face. I can’tdo thisanymore, Gannett. I’ve fallen for that look so many times, and I won’t do it from here on out. My mind is made up. I’m calling out sick from work tomorrow and Friday. I'll be gone through Sunday. That gives you four days to find somewhere to go. I suggest, for once in your life, you put in some effort.”
“I have nowhere to go! This is my house!”
“It’s mine too! I work just as hard for this house! Where you go is not my problem! Go stay with your parents!”
