Chapter 11
I watched the Uber car pull up to a stop outside our home. The back door opened and my husband folded his long limbs out of the vehicle before reaching back in to grab his duffel. He turned towards the house just as I moved away from the window, out of sight. I wasn’t yet ready to look at him.
I made my way back to the kitchen, using the dining table as a barrier between us. My heart was in my throat and nervous butterflies danced low in my belly. It was a change from the furious licks of rage that had kept me company since Carly’s smug face popped up behind my husband.
I didn't know what mood Drew would be in this morning. He’d sent me an apology text last night but I was still too pissed and hurt to acknowledge it. He also messaged me when his flight was leaving, and again when it landed. Still, I refused to reply.
It was a sad irony that this was the most communication Drew had given me in a long time.
I heard his key in the door, yet I stayed where I was. If things hadn’t gone to hell yesterday morning, I would’ve done what I usually did when Drew went away for a night or two. I'd be waiting in anticipation by the door, ready to jump into his open arms with a searing kiss that would quickly turn into more.
His footsteps echoed closer, and my eyes lifted to meet his. He looked…wrecked. Stricken. His tortured eyes looked like they hadn’t slept a wink last night.
Good.
He immediately dumped his bag at his feet and strolled towards me with purpose. Before I realized his intent, he pulled me into a tight hug. I stiffened in his arms, my own hands lying limply at my sides.
Undeterred, he only held me tighter. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. His warm breath shuddered against my neck. "I should've been honest with you."
My brow knitted together. I was a little caught off guard by his actions. I'd expected Drew to be defensive. Apologetic, of course, but still defensive and full of excuses.
"So why weren't you?"
He pulled back, his whiskey eyes briefly meeting mine before they dropped.
"And don't say that you didn't want to worry me," I interrupted before he could speak.
His mouth snapped shut, his lips rolling in. His chest rose in a shuddering breath. "Okay. Honestly? I didn't want to deal with another argument."
I flinched and tried to pry myself out of his arms, but he held me still.
"I'm sorry. That was wrong of me,” he pleaded. “I should've told you that she'd be there."
"When did you find out that she was?"
"What?"
My eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you when you said that you didn't find out until it was too late. So when did you know?"
He puffed out a breath. This time he finally detached himself and stepped back. My heart stuttered and I braced myself for his response. He ran a hand through his already messed up hair and met my unwavering stare.
"Two weeks before we left."
A sound of distress escaped me, and I fumbled back.
His hands spread wide, his eyes frantic as he tried to placate me. "Babe, I promise you, I only kept it from you because we weren't in a good place. I just…I didn't want to go through another argument. I can see that was wrong. I'm so, so sorry." His hands grasped mine, squeezing them desperately.
I stared at my husband's familiar brown eyes. They were begging me to believe him. I didn't think that there was anything going on between him and Carly, but at the very least, he should have respected my wish for them to keep things professional. Spending nights out drinking with her, regardless of whether they were in a group, wasn't appropriate. Constantly texting each other non-work related stuff was not appropriate.
So for him to go away on a weekend work trip with her and purposely not tell me that she would be there…it was another brick kicked off in the foundation of our trust. Bright red flags were fluttering furiously at me.
"Let's go out to dinner. Spend some real time together. I know I haven't spent time with you, and that's my fault. I'm so sorr –"
"Drew." My soft voice held a steel of purpose behind it. "Going out to dinner won't fix our problems. You said you didn't want to start another argument, and you're right. We have been arguing a lot lately. I've asked you constantly what the issue was and tried talking to you about how…strained we are. But you've always brushed me off."
His mouth tightened, and his eyes dropped from mine.
"I want us to try marriage counseling."
His head came up at that, his brow furrowed. "What?"
"Things aren't right between us. This is more than Carly and this business trip. Things have been off with you for a while."
He shook his head. "Babe, we don't need therapy. We don't need a stranger listening to our problems. We're not that bad."
I shook my head. "Please don't gaslight me. This…disconnect between us has been going on for more than half a year. We can barely go a day without sniping at each other. You seem to be annoyed at me more often than not. And then Carly…"
He raked a hand through his hair and turned away. "Forget about Carly."
"I wish you would."
He whirled to face me, his face tight. "What does that mean? You want me not to see her outside of work? Done. Do you want me to stop texting her unless it's work-related? Done."
"I thought her texts to you after hours were work-related," I softly countered.
His face blanched and his eyes again refused to meet mine. My heart sank. "I still don't think we need therapy. We can sort out our issues on our own."
Exasperated, I threw my hands in the air. "We've been going around in circles for months!" Tears pricked my eyes as I pleaded with him to see my point of view. "Please, can you try? For me?"
He took in my pale face and red-rimmed eyes. His shoulders dropped and his warm eyes softened in response. "Okay, babe. Let's give it a go."