“So, Petra didn’t… She… It wasn’t her idea?”
The look in his eyes shuttered, but he masked it fast.
“No. She doesn’t know this part of your life. She doesn’t know how you wish you could sell your original images to bring people joy and feeling. Those were you-and-me conversations, husband and wife.” There was an undercurrent to his tone, but it wasn’t anger.
He took my hand in his, tracing my palm with his pointer finger. He might’ve tried to hide it, but his hand shook.
“This was all me.”
My eyes prickled, and I glanced outside again, but he tugged on my hand, drawing my attention.
“Please don’t hide from me. Look me in the eye when you ask your next question.”
“Why?”
“Because I deserve to see your face. Even if it kills me, I want to see the worry in your eyes. The fact you thought Petra would have anything to do with this fucking hurts, Laney, but let it all out.”
“It might hurt, but you forgot our anniversary and told me Petra would reschedule us a dinner somewhere. I don’t understand how you can do this, plan this surprise, but forget our anniversary.” A tear fell, and I quickly swiped it away. “I-I…”
“Honesty,” he urged, his tone soft.
“I know you love me, and this gesture, seeing my photographs for sale, is amazing. It means so much to me. I just… it shows me that, when you care about something, you show up, you prioritize it, but when you don’t care or get too busy, you forget. It’s the inconsistency that hurts me.”
His jaw flexed. “I have nothing else to say besides I messedup on our anniversary. There are no excuses besides me fucking up. If it were my first time not showing up for you, it would’ve been something we worked through.”
“It wasn’t the first time,” I said softly. “Did you plan this that weekend we went away?”
He nodded. “Is that… bad?”
“No. That makes sense in my timeline.”
“Timeline?”
“Yeah. That… weekend we connected. Deeply. It was the old us. It made me forget all about leaving. It makes sense that I was on your mind too.”
He swallowed. “Then that following week, I didn’t come home for dinner once.”
I shook my head. “I researched meals from the hotel to make for you, to surprise you.”
He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “Fuck. I had no idea.”
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Laney, I need you to bother me. I want all your bothers.” He tilted his head and then snorted. “That was a weird sentence.”
“It kinda was.” I smiled, my shoulders relaxing as the mood shifted. “I’m programmed to never upset you because your job is stressful, and I never wanted to be the nagging wife.”
“You expressing yourself to me is not nagging.” He squeezed my wrist again, three times. “I’d rather have you yell or cry at me every day than not have you.”
He paused and shook his head.
“God, that sounds bad too. I don’t want you to cry every day. I never want you sad. How am I making this worse?”
I laughed. “You really are. It’s impressive.”
He rolled his eyes as the ghost of a smile played on his face.
“I always assumed I’d make things up to you later. I told myself the next trip, the next weekend, next month, next birthday, I’d do something big to make up for it. I realize now that wasn’t enough.”
