I turn away from her because if I keep looking at her, I’m going to say something I can’t take back. My hands curl into fists at my sides.
This cannot be happening.
I built my life on structure. Discipline. Anticipation. You don’t get blindsided if you prepare. You don’t lose control if you never hand it over in the first place.
And yet here I am.
Married.
Still married.
Because she “panicked.”
I turn back to her, heat climbing up my spine, my jaw so tight it aches.
“You’re crazy.”
It comes out harsh and mean.
Good.
“We’re married, Jake,” she says quietly. “Whether you like it or not.”
Something punches straight through my chest at her quiet dignity, especially when I’m doing nothing to make this easy for her.
“And I’m not going back home,” she ends with.
I don’t like the way this conversation is going. Maybe I have to understand where she is coming from first. And then I’ll be able to get her to leave and then we’ll fix this mess we’re in.
I study her more carefully now.
Her hair is slightly messy and she looks exhausted.
I sigh, deep and frustrated.
“Why don’t you sit down?”
Her shoulders twitch, like she’s surprised I’m not immediately escorting her back out onto the porch. She hesitates, eyes flicking around my living room again, taking in the clean lines, the order, the quiet.
Then she nods once and walks toward the couch like she’s entering enemy territory.
I don’t tell her to take her shoes off. I’m not sure why. Usually I’m strict about that. Dirt, germs, chaos. But right now my brain is too busy trying not to explode.
I gesture to the sofa anyway. “There.”
She sits on the edge like she’s ready to bolt. Her hands twist together in her lap.
I head to the kitchen because I need something to do with my hands that isn’t dragging her out by her elbow.
“Water?” I call, opening a cabinet.
“Sure,” she says, small.
I grab two glasses, fill them, and add ice to mine out of habit. The clink is too loud in the silence. I set her glass on the coffee table in front of her and keep mine in my hand like a shield.
Then I sit in the armchair opposite her, leaning forward, elbows on my knees.
Okay.
