Chapter 7
"S o are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to drag it out of you?"
"Hmm?" I glanced up at Nell.
"You've barely said a full sentence, and you turned down a margarita." My best friend tilted her brow at me, sucking her margarita through her straw.
I shrugged and attempted a smile that I knew wouldn't fool her. "Just work stress."
"What stress? You're doing something you love, making your own hours, and getting a free trip soon."
My lips twitched as she counted off my blessings. Truthfully, my trip to Mexico was the only bright spot in my life lately. Flights and accommodation were booked, and since it was considered "low season," I had plenty of time to upgrade my room and extend my stay should I choose to.
I still hadn't told Drew about the trip. At first, I wanted to wait until things were one hundred percent confirmed before I brought it up—even though I usually divulged every mundane thing with him. Lately, however, my exhausted and petty side thought: What was the point?
If I wasn’t working a weekend shoot, Drew would be out catching up with "friends” anyway. Our conversations at home were stilted, our text threads were silent, and our sex life had dried up. I couldn't even envision myself asking him to come with me. Silent treatment in paradise? No, thank you.
There was also a small—okay, a large —part of me that was scared he would say no.
Overwhelmed by the state of my marriage, tears filled my eyes, and I sniffed back a sob.
"Oh, fuck." Nellie placed her drink down and reached across to grasp my hand. "What's wrong? Is it Drew?"
I nodded.
"Yes? Okay, fuck. What did he do?"
I shook my head and then shrugged. Because I didn't know . He didn't text me like he used to when he was at work or out at night. He was grumpy and short with me. There was also the nagging feeling that he was hiding something from me—but it could be anything from an illness…to an affair.
The tears spilled over now as I recounted everything.
He was often late home from work, with some flimsy excuse that he was out with work colleagues. His phone went off all the time, to the point he had silenced it but kept the vibrate on, so I still fucking knew he was receiving messages. I felt like I was going crazy. I didn't like this feeling.
"Tell me," Nell demanded, squeezing my hand.
I'd known Nellie since we were ten and we'd been firm friends ever since. And like Sene was to me, Nell was also a good friend to Drew. But I knew her loyalty would always lie with me.
"We're having problems. God, I don't even know where to start." I shook my head.
"What kind of problems? What's the main issue?"
"Moving to the next step in our life for starters. Starting kids and buying a home. Every time I bring it up, he shuts me down. And he's been shutting me out ever since. For months," I confessed.
Her brow furrowed. "What did he say? He doesn't want kids?"
"I don't know!" I threw my hands up. "That's the thing. He won't talk to me about it. He made some snide comments about how I'm the one who wants kids, insinuating that he never did. But then he won't talk about it. We're fighting all the time. I can't say anything right, and then he's always out." I took a deep breath. "And then there's her. " I didn't want to say her name. I'd had my fill of her.
"Her? Who the fuck is her ?"
My finger traced around the rim of my empty glass. "There's this girl at Drew's work…Carly."
"Ugh! I hate her already."
I snorted. Christ, I wished I'd said yes to another drink. I could use one now. "She texts him all the time. He tells me it's innocent, but he goes out with his work colleagues nearly every night, and I know she's there. Normally, it wouldn't bother me, but I met her at Drew's holiday party. She was with him half the night, joking and petting his arm like she had a right to. I can tell she wants him." I grunted with frustration and covered my face. "I don't know what to do."
Nellie’s brow furrowed in concern. "Do you still love each other?"
"Yes! I love him so much. He tells me he loves me, too, and sometimes I get glimpses of the loving guy I knew. But those flashes are few and far between now. I want to fight for our marriage, but it feels like I'm the only one who wants to."
"Have you considered counseling?"
I frowned at her and immediately shook my head. "We're not that bad," I denied. Right?
"Babe, people go to counseling for everything these days, not just when you're at the last gasp of a dying marriage. Not that your marriage is dying,” she quickly amended. “Far from it. If he won't talk to you, maybe he will if a professional mediates."
I considered it, trying to envision Drew sitting in a formal setting, pouring his feelings out. "I can't see him wanting to do that." He was never deep in his emotions, always keeping a tight lid on anything that went deeper than the superficial gripes a couple faced.
But after I left Nell’s apartment, I thought of what was waiting for me when I got home. Stress. Prolonged silences. Vibrating phones. Harsh words and missed connections.
I thought of Nell’s suggestion. What other option did I have? Nothing I'd done worked. Maybe Drew would feel more comfortable with a buffer between us.
I was relieved when Drew's car was in the driveway. He was home early for once.
"Hey, babe," he greeted, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on my cheek.
"Hey. How was work?" I asked, gauging his mood.
His broad shoulder lifted. "Work was work. Where were you?"
"At Nell’s."
He nodded, his attention elsewhere. "How is she?"
"Yeah, good."
This conversation was like pulling teeth. I could feel my frustration mounting, but I couldn't be fucked starting up another "Are we okay?" conversation. The therapy idea that Nellie had planted in my mind could also wait.
"Sit down. I'll make you a coffee."
I eyed him carefully as he went about filling our machine. I obeyed, even though all I wanted to do was disappear into the safety of my room. Our room.
He worked quietly as a storm of discontent brewed inside of me. He seemed to be in a better mood today. Dare I disrupt it by bringing up therapy? Or should I just enjoy the window of calm between us?
He turned to me with a grin and placed the steaming mug of coffee in front of me.
"Thanks," I muttered.
"No problem." He went back to the sink and started rinsing out his cup.
He was quiet again for a beat before he cleared his throat. "Hey, so we have an expo coming up for work in two weeks. It's in Charleston. Me and one other guy in my team are going."
His words were spoken casually, a small aside as part of the small talk two partners entertained on a normal afternoon.
I took a small sip. "Who else is going?"
He shrugged before turning to face me. "I dunno. I only know who's going in my team. They need someone to promote our company while I take pictures and videos."
The silence stretched as I continued to stare at him. He held my gaze for a few seconds before his dark eyes dropped from mine. He turned to put the dish rag away.
My earlier conversation with Nell re-entered my head. "So Carly's not going?"
His shoulders rose and dipped. "I just said that I didn't know who else was going. Just who was on my team."
I placed my cup back on the table, not wanting it anymore. It somehow felt calculated. "Well, I also have a work trip coming up." My chin rose a fraction.
He whirled in surprise. "Yeah? To where?"
"Puerto Vallarta."
"Mexico?"
I nodded. "You know that fancy engagement party I did? The bride with the rich parents? She and her fiance decided to elope. She just confirmed the details to me two days ago. It's the last weekend of March."
He looked stunned. "Wow. A destination wedding. That's big. Babe, I'm so proud of you."
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to come with me. But a huge part of me was disappointed he didn’t immediately ask for more details—maybe even ask me himself if he could go. After all, it was a weekend. The flight wasn't long, and he had plenty of notice.
Sure, I should be the one to offer since it was technically a work trip for me, but that persistent fear that he would turn me down prevented me from asking. It would be another nail in a relationship that was teetering on the edge.
In the end, it didn't matter. He squeezed my shoulder and told me he was off for a shower. My excitement for my trip to Mexico waned slightly at my husband's disinterest.