“Well, breakfast is cold now,” he said. “But if you want it, we can heat it up.”
“Okay.”
We moved to the kitchen. He grabbed the plates while I stayed glued to my phone, pretending to check emails but I was texting Stacks back.
I could feel him looking at me.
“What?” I asked without looking up.
“Nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing. He stopped, then set the plate down and leaned against the counter.
“Baby… something is different.”
My fingers froze over my screen.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said slowly, choosing his words, “I’m here. I’m home. I’m doing everything you said you wanted. And now you’re so busy you’re barely here.”
“You’ve missed events for Kennedi. You’re always rushing in or out. And look at you.” He gestured vaguely. “Since when do you wear jeans and T-shirts every day? You used to dress up for no reason. Do your long skincare routine. Light candles. Now you barely do any of that.”
“At one point,” he continued quietly, “all you wanted to do was have sex. Now it feels like you’re running from me.”
My heart dropped into my stomach. I went straight into defense mode.
“What does that even mean?” I snapped. “Don’t start with me today. I don’t have time for this.”
That caught him off guard, and I could see it in his face.
“I’m not starting anything. I’m talking to my wife.”
“And I’m telling you I don’t have time for it,” I shot back. “I’ve been planning a whole sweet sixteen. I’ve been handling everything.”
“It’s been going on longer than two weeks, Khloe,” he said. “I’ve been trying to overlook it. Trying to tell myself maybe you’re just stressed. But I’m tired.”
“Tired of what?”
“Tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying.”
“You weren’t saying that when you were at work all the time,” I fired back. “Or when your little clients were trying to undress in closets.”
His face changed instantly.
“Don’t,” he warned.
“Don’t what?” I said. “Don’t jump to conclusions? That’s funny. I’m not in a house letting a client try to seduce me like Ms. Nikki.”
He looked like I had slapped him. “You really still holding that over my head?”
“I’m just saying.” I shrugged, even though I was nauseous. “Don’t start assuming things about me.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “That’s not the same thing and you know it.”
“Whatever.”
He grabbed his keys and wallet off the counter. The front door shut so hard that I thought it broke.
