Jess looks down at the floor.
“Do you want me to move out?” I ask quietly. “Is that what it’s going to take?”
Her head snaps up. “No. Logan, no.”
“Because I need space, Jess,” I go on, my voice harder than I mean it to be. “Space from you. And if you can’t respect that, then just tell me.”
Her lips tremble.
“I’m trying,” she says softly. “I swear I am.”
There’s so much more I want to say.
That I hate what she did to us.
That I still love her, but right now I don’t really like her.
That every time she looks at me, touches me, even breathes near me, it messes with my head in ways I’m not ready to deal with.
But this isn’t the time for any of that.
So instead of unloading everything I’m feeling, instead of saying something I can’t take back, I do the only thing I can manage.
I turn around.
And walk away.
Leaving my wife standing alone in the kitchen, crying.
Chapter Thirteen
Jess
“But why?” I ask Claudia.
We’re back at the diner again, coffee this time instead of burgers.
Turns out therapists aren’t completely opposed to meeting outside their clinical office if you ask nicely.
I’m grateful she picked a booth tucked in the far corner, away from the three other people scattered around the place. It makes this feel a little less exposed.
“Because he asked you to,” Claudia says simply.
I sigh and wrap both hands around my mug. “But how is not talking for sixty days supposed to help our marriage?”
She stirs sugar into her coffee and studies me over the rim of her cup. “Sometimes it’s better to step away and gain perspective.”
My stomach twists. “What if that perspective is that he doesn’t want to be married to me anymore?”
Claudia nods. “That ishisdecision.”
She says it like it’s a fact. Like gravity. Unavoidable.
I stare out the window.
“Jessica,” Claudia says, her tone firmer now, “you cannot make your husband stay with you.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I know. I do. It’s just… hard to wait.”
