“Nothing about this is fair!” The words crack out of me, loud enough to make the air vibrate. “You’re never home, and when you are, you’re somewhere else in your head. I’m tired of being your afterthought. Of pretending that your exhaustion is a love language.”
He stares at me like I’ve just drawn blood. “I’mtrying. I’ve been trying. I’ve changed my schedule, I pick up Finn, I come home for dinner, I’m?—”
“You’re managing logistics,” I say, cutting him off. “Not a marriage. And you’re dropping the ball half the time.”
“Baby, I am sorry about that. So sorry.”
The way he says it is so genuine that the heat in me dissipates.
“I didn’t want to talk to you like this,” I whisper, shoulders slumped. “I wanted to…I wanted to be calm. I’m…sorry.”
There’s a flicker of something broken in his eyes, and I feel an answering clench in my chest.
“Don’t apologize, Jayne. I hurt you. I know that. I am sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” All the fight has drained out of me. “I…look, what I wanted to say was that I’m going to talk to Daniel next week and…quit.”
“No!”
My eyes widen, unsure where this is going. “No?”
“No, baby. I don’t want you to give up one more thing.”
I draw in an unsteady breath. “Rhys, we can’t go on like this.”
He takes my hands in his. “I know.”
“Then—”
“I’ll do better.” He squeezes my hands. “I promise.”
I know he believes it, but I don’t. He’ll get busy, and we’ll be back here.
“Rhys, relying on you and then not getting support is much harder than just doing it myself, knowing there won’t be support.” I don’t want to hurt him, but this is the truth.
“Please, Jayne.”
“Please what, Rhys?” I pull my hands away, despair encroaching into every part of me. This is not living. This constant anger. This constant bitterness. This constant war. I want…no, Ineedpeace.
“Give me another chance.”
I shake my head, bereft. “To do what?”
“To be a better husband.”
I hate that I’m forcing him to say these things. I hate that I can’t tell him he’s a good husband—because he isn’t. Not right now. And then there’s his job, this impossible, noble thing he does. He literally saves lives. And what do I do? Nothing that feels anywhere near as important.
“I don’t want you to quit your job,” he continues. “You’ve given up so much to make our family successful.”
I look up at him, puzzled.Where is this coming from?
“You gave up being a lawyer. You worked hard, so fucking hard, Jayne, when I was in medical school, when we didn’t have a lot of money. I know that.”
Tears fill my eyes. “If you know that, then why have you made me feel like…nothing?”
His expression twists with raw pain. “Because I was a fool. A selfish fool. I’m going to do better.”
Before I can speak, he holds up his hand. “I know, you’re thinking, I keep saying that and I keep fucking up. I get it. But I need you to trust me.”
