23. Avery
Chapter 23
Avery
I taste the panic on her lips and I fucking hate that we’re back to this. Valentina is uncertain, almost skittish, around me when three days ago, she was coming apart in my arms. I needed to feel her give in to my kiss, to be affected by it. Instead, she pulls away, leaving me rattled.
Did a few days with her family convince her that our marriage doesn’t have what it takes to last?
I stare down at her.
What’s going on? my eyes ask.
“Jesus, mate,” Ale mutters.
I smirk. “Newlyweds.”
Carla laughs. “You two are so annoying but you’ve got nothing on Raia and Cohen.”
As if she heard her name, my sister appears at the bar. Cohen’s arms are wrapped around her waist, and she looks perfectly at ease. In fact, she’s glowing, clearly happy by his arrival.
I wish I could say the same about my wife who won’t meet my gaze.
“Ah, there they are,” Carla jokes.
Cohen introduces himself to Alejandro before waving down the bartender. “We’re going to the playoffs, baby. Let’s get some celebratory shots!”
We’re huddled around the bar, an odd mash-up of a blended family. I wish I could relax and enjoy the moment, but Valentina’s body is stiff under my touch. It’s as if my proximity is making her uncomfortable when I’m used to her body melting into mine.
What the hell changed? Why does she seem disappointed to see me?
I look at my sister again, noting the excited patches of red on her cheeks. She’s over the moon that Cohen arrived in Chicago to surprise her. Why isn’t Valentina giving me a similar reaction?
I watch as Valentina withdraws into herself. She sips her margarita, her eyes darting around the bar, as if looking for an escape. Does she want to leave because she’s tired? Or does she want to leave because I showed up?
I hate that I can’t figure out where her head is at.
As another round of shots is poured, I take Valentina’s hand. “You want to head out?”
Her eyes meet mine and she nods.
“Okay,” I say. I let her brother and Carla know that I’m taking Valentina back to the hotel.
Ale’s eyes swing to his sister’s. “You good, Vale?” he asks in Spanish and I hate that he doesn’t trust me enough to know that I have her best interests at heart. Instead, he wants to hear it from her.
Sighing, I give Valentina a second with her brother to let Cohen and Raia know that we’re leaving. Then, I take Valentina’s hand and escort her from the bar.
I’m frustrated that I don’t understand Valentina’s reaction, but I’m also worried. She has an aloofness to her expression, as if she’s desperate to put distance between us when we’ve spent weeks trying to grow closer.
Add that frustration to the exhaustion of today’s game and the flight to Chicago, and I’m in a piss-poor mood by the time we make it to our hotel room. My anger is palpable, rolling off my shoulders, but my wife doesn’t seem to notice.
She’s lost in her own thoughts.
“Valentina,” I say, moving to her side. “What’s going on?”
She walks toward the closet, pulling out a pair of pajamas and a robe. “I’m exhausted, Avery. Can we talk tomorrow?”
“Seriously?” I stare at her. “I just flew here from Chicago to surprise you, and you’re acting like you don’t want to see me.”
“It’s not like that,” she says quickly.
“Then what is it like?” I press.
Valentina sighs. “The past few weeks with you have been magical. And being away from Tennessee, being with my family?—”
“Being away from me,” I cut in.
She holds my gaze but doesn’t refute my words. “What if we’re fooling ourselves?”
I tip my head back and groan. “We’re back to this?”
“I’m just saying that everything has been rushed. And we’ve been trying, and it’s been great. It’s been wonderful.”
“But?” I prod.
“But I also loved having this time with my family.”
“Good. You’re supposed to,” I point out. “I like hanging with my family too.”
She breaks eye contact and looks down at her toes. “I’m not sure if my family is ever going to accept you or accept us.”
“It was one holiday, Lena,” I point out. “We’ve barely scratched the surface. We’ve hardly even tried.”
“But shouldn’t it be easier?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Sometimes.”
“Well, was it easier with Mila?” she asks, sounding genuinely curious and not at all upset or jealous by my relationship with my ex-girlfriend.
The mention of Mila pulls me up short. I narrow my eyes as my mind spins, turning over various scenarios. I dislike every single one, but they give me pause.
Is being with Valentina like my shit with Mila? Mila was all I knew until one day, I knew I needed more. I needed experiences and challenges and—something different. We were too young.
Valentina never had that chance. She’s been with Dane. And me. Does she want more? Will she resent me if she doesn’t have the time to search for it?
Is that what her parents pointed out this weekend? Did they encourage her to make sure that I’m it by considering the things she’s giving up?
“Well?” she presses.
I think back to Mila’s parents. They welcomed me with open arms and for years, she also felt like a permanent fixture in my family.
“No.” I shake my head. “It wasn’t like this with Mila. But we were also fifteen when we started dating.”
“Yeah,” Valentina whispers. “That’s true.”
I stare at her, but she doesn’t add more.
“Lena, what’s going on?” I grasp at straws. “How the hell am I supposed to travel for the playoffs or focus on my game when I don’t know what the hell is happening in my marriage?”
At that, something sparks in Valentina’s eyes. “I think you should focus on football.”
“What?”
She nods, as if confirming her thoughts to herself. “I’m going on the field research trip, and you have the playoffs coming up. Right now, my head is a mess, Avery. I’m sorry. I really am. But I think we should take a break.”
“A break?”
She nods. “I feel like things happened so fast. That every time I come up for air, there’s something new. The highs feel so high but the lows, like right now, feel devastatingly low. My family’s reaction to you, Christmas Day, it was awful. It’s like I’m on a roller coaster and I can’t get off.”
While I’m relieved she’s being honest with me, I also don’t agree with her sentiments. “It feels like you’re quitting without giving this a real shot.”
Tears fill Valentina’s eyes and she shakes her head. “I’m not quitting, Avery. I’m asking for some time, some space. A break. It’s just, I want to be sure of us before we keep moving down this path. Having some time away from Knoxville, I don’t feel as certain as I did. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. That’s why I think it’s better we take a pause now, and really think things through.”
Fuck. She spends a few days with her family and already, they’ve shaken up her confidence in me. I hate that she doesn’t trust me enough to know that what we share is real. But I guess that’s the heart of the issue, isn’t it? No one in my life truly trusts me—not when it counts.
Swearing softly, I nod. “Fine. This is what you want?”
“Yes,” Valentina says softly. “You need to focus, home in, on football. And I need to be fully present for my field research trip. Let’s just take a beat, slow down, and once I get back from the trip, see where we stand. Talk about what we truly want for our future. This started out as an arrangement, Avery.”
“I know that,” I bite out.
“We never meant to fall in love with each other.”
“But we did,” I plead, wanting her to understand how I feel. Right now, she’s ripping out my fucking heart.
“Yeah,” she agrees. “We did. Which makes this part harder. But I don’t want to be with you and not be all in. And I don’t want you to resent me down the road.”
“I could never resent you,” I whisper. Again, this reminds me of my past with Mila because at one point, I did resent her. Not for the same reasons Valentina is suggesting, but the truth is, when one person feels stifled, bitterness builds. While I should give Valentina props for recognizing that, right now, my ego is too fucking wounded to admit it.
Valentina doesn’t reply to that. “Let’s get some sleep.”
“Fine,” I say, moving toward the bathroom. “I’m flying out tomorrow morning. Why don’t you stay in Chicago with your family for a few days? I’ll make sure my shit is moved out and at my sister and Cohen’s place before you get back.”
“Okay,” Valentina agrees.
“Okay,” I repeat, still fucking shocked that this is the conversation we’re having.
I showed up in Chicago to surprise my wife and have a night out with her. Instead, we’re taking a fucking break and I regret coming at all.
I’m exhausted when I wake in the morning.
I reach for Valentina—it’s a fucking habit—but her side of the bed is cold. Sighing, I see the sticky note on the bedside table.
Avery, I went to Pilates with my sister. I’ll see you back in Knoxville. Thanks for being so understanding. Lena
Wow. She’s not even going to say good-bye. That’s a low fucking blow.
Pissed off and keyed up, I shove my shit into my backpack, text Cohen, and head to the airport.
Thoughts plague me for the entire flight to Knoxville.
Does she need this time for herself, or is it already over and she’s letting me down easy?
Is it better if she goes on this research trip with no distractions? With nothing holding her back?
Does she view me as holding her back? Hell, am I?
I hate that I feel so unsteady in my marriage when a week ago, I felt like I was on top of the world. How did everything flip so fast? And what does it say about the foundation of our marriage, about my love for Valentina, if spending a weekend with her family could change her mind so quickly?
When I arrive at our condo, I move through the space quickly. It’s quiet and dark and her belongings feel like shadows of her.
It’s a haunting throwback to the early days of our marriage, when I didn’t know how to act around her and she didn’t know how to let me in.
I thought we were past that but clearly, I was wrong.