Chapter 26
Ezra: Hey, do you have time today to talk?
I reread Ezra message a couple times before the pit in my stomach turns. He never randomly texts me asking to talk. With all the questions that have been running through my mind lately, I’m wondering if there is something more going on that he knows.
What could it be?
Violet: Yeah. What’s going on?
Ezra: It would be better if we talked about it in person.
In person?
This makes me feel nauseous.
Violet: Okay.
It’s a little after five, and I’m walking into a coffee shop where Ezra wanted to meet.
The aroma of espresso is so strong, my mouth waters for one.
I walk over to the register to order and then I hear my name being called.
I turn around and see Ezra sitting by the window with two coffees on the table.
He waves me over and I walk toward him. “Hey Ez.”
“Hey, I already got you a coffee.”
I slide the chair out and take a seat in front of him. “How do you know what I like?”
“I’ve known you pretty much my whole life. I’m sure by now I can remember how you like your coffee.”
He has a fair point.
“So, what’s going on?” I ask, taking a sip of my flat white, hoping it makes the twist and turns in my stomach settle. But it’s caffeine, who am I kidding?
“Has Rya said anything to you…” He pauses, shifting his gaze away from me. “About, I don’t know… Anything?” he asks, looking back over at me with an expression I’ve never seen before.
He looks down, not like himself. Like he’s been having his own doubts about his marriage that he hasn’t been able to explain. Just like me.
My brows raise and my lips purse as I shake my head. “Like what?”
He exhales heavily, slumping his shoulders. “She’s been acting weird lately.”
“Weird how?” I frown, my mind racing to this past weekend when we went shopping. But then also toward Zayn, because he too has been acting weird. Even though he says it’s work. But how can both Rya and Zayn be acting weird?
“She’s been distant, and her shopping addiction is worse than it has ever been,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee.
Distant?
Or is this about us going shopping together? Has she been distant because she’s been shopping a lot? I knew he was upset the moment he saw us walking into the house. Hell, I knew he would be upset after seeing how much she was buying. I kind of saw that her addiction was getting worse.
My body stiffens. “She hasn’t said anything to me.”
He yawns even though we’ve been sitting here drinking coffee. It’s almost as if his exhaustion comes from his worries rather than the lack of sleep. “I know when she’s stressed, she shops. But the amount of shopping she’s been doing is so much worse now.”
I drum my finger on the table, trying to think back at anything I can remember. Nothing comes to mind.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Ezra’s brows raise. I look over my shoulder at Zayn’s hardening jaw. The crease in his forehead deepens the moment we make eye contact.
I shake my head, confused. “What do you mean? We’re just talking.”
“Just the two of you,” he spits with his eyes bulging out.
“Dude, what’s your problem?” Ezra asks.
Zay glances over at Ezra. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“You’re the one making a scene.”
Zay’s hands turn into fists as his unexplained fumes run out of him, like smoke from a burning fire. “Yeah, because I catch my best friend alone with my wife.”
“Zay, what the fuck?” I ask.
Ez’s brows are furrowed “You’ve never had a problem with it before.”
He takes a couple of steps closer to Ezra. Ezra stands up, squares his shoulders, a confused look on his face.
“So, how long has this been going on?”
I reach out and grab Zay’s hand. He flinches and flings it out of my grip.
Ezra shakes his head. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“How long have you been sleeping with my wife?” he yells.
The silence of the coffee shop dies down even more.
I look around our surroundings, and everyone is now staring at us.
I stand up, grabbing Zay’s hand once more.
“Let’s go,” I say sternly. This is so fucking embarrassing.
I try to drag Zay out, but he won’t budge.
“Let’s go, Zay,” I say again in a lower tone, so this doesn’t make a bigger scene than it already has.
Ez puts his hands on the top of Zay’s shoulders. “What is wrong with you? We’re not sleeping together. I asked her if she could meet me to talk about Rya.”
Zay’s hardened face drops. “What about her?” he asks, softer.
“Let’s go outside. Everyone is staring at us,” I repeat, again.
Zay looks around, throws Ez’s hands off his shoulders, huffs, and walks out.
Ez and I both stare at the back of Zay. He storms out and chucks a coffee in the garbage outside.
My head spins at everything that just happened in the matter of minutes.
As Zay walks away, I search for some hint that this was a joke.
But he doesn’t turn and look back at us. He gets in his car and drives away.
The accusation feels like a slap in the face. I can’t believe Zay would even think that about me and Ezra. There have been many times when Ez and I have hung out, just the two of us. Maybe not so much now that we’re actually married but still, Zay is still way out of line with this.
I’ve been stirring all night, sitting at home waiting for Zay to come home. He hasn’t answered my calls or my text messages. I expected Rya to text or call me after Ezra got home because I’m sure he told her what happened, but still no word from her. Or Ezra.
What the fuck is going on?
The mudroom door squeaks, telling me Zayn has come home.
The house is dark. I’ve been sitting here all night, questioning everything, waiting for him to walk through the door.
I should be asleep, given that it’s almost midnight.
But that’s probably why Zay is coming home so late, so he doesn’t have to deal with me questioning him. He probably thinks I’m asleep.
He walks into the living room quietly, no doubt trying to not wake me up. He turns on the light and right away is startled by me sitting here. I glare at him, waiting for him to say something—anything. His eyes flicker away from my glare, cheeks flushed, giving away his guilt.
“What the fuck was that?” I yell. I’m done trying to be all nice and understanding of his… whatever the hell is going on with him.
He stands there at a loss for words. He should be, because he knows what he did was wrong.
“Are you going to say anything?”
“There is nothing to say,” he says, walking past me and up the stairs.
My mouth is agape as I watch him turn his back on me. I jump off the couch and follow behind him. “Zay!”
“What?” he huffs.
He walks into our room, then into the bathroom, and turns on the shower, avoiding eye contact with me.
“What is wrong with you?” I ask, my voice trembling from all the anger and nerves riled up in me.
He turns and faces me. His nostrils flare, and his jaw clench. “How long has this been going on?”
My eyes widen and my mouth parts in disbelief. “Oh, my hell. You actually think me and Ezra are sleeping together?”
He crosses his arms. “What were you two doing all alone in an intimate place?”
I freeze for a moment, heart racing. “How the hell is a coffee shop intimate?”
His gaze burns through me with all his anger.
How does he flip from guilt to anger in the matter of seconds?
“Why are you avoiding my question?” he asks, shaking his head. “What are you hiding?”
My eyes narrow and I step closer to him.
“What are you hiding? Accusing me of sleeping with someone else?” Heat surges through my body.
I’m not sure if it’s from my anger or the heat of the shower swirling around us.
Or both. “What were you doing in such an intimate place? Huh? Were you meeting someone there?”
“I was trying to do something nice for you and buy you a coffee after work.”
My face softens remembering the coffee he threw out before he walked out the door of the café. And now my mind is all over the place.
This took a completely different turn. Now I’m sitting here accusing him of cheating.
The tension still lingers between us. “You have a bad way of showing it,” I say under my breath.
“Showing what?” he yells.
“That you were doing something nice for me.”
His mouth drops. “I was buying you a coffee. How is that not nice?”
I force myself to swallow the knot in my throat, despite the fact that this is not how I had hoped the talk would go.
My rage is increasing, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to calm down.
I’ve tolerated his stress from work, hoping it would pass.
But now my anger is all built up, with the resentment from the previous weeks reaching a boiling point.
I’m exhausted from carrying this weight, and I can’t take it anymore.
“You can’t do something nice for me and then accuse me of cheating. That throws the nice thing out.” I say with air quotation marks.
He shakes his head. “I can’t believe you.”
I scoff. “What? You can’t believe me?” I say, pointing to myself. “I haven’t done anything. I had coffee with one of my best friends. You’re the one that’s been rude and having all these outbursts on me.”
“I know this,” he says sternly. “Why do you think I was trying to do something nice for you?” He turns his back toward me and shuts the shower off.
Beads of sweat are dripping from my hairline. I’m so angry, I don’t even know what to say anymore. My mind is blank from everything that happened from the time we were at the coffee shop to now.
“Fuck this. I’m going to bed,” he says and storms off.
I take a big breath, my chest rising and falling so hard I can’t catch a good breath.
I sit down on my vanity chair, trying to calm down.
What the hell is going on with us? I rest my hands on my knees, bending forward.
The burning behind my eyes is making it hard to hold in my tears.
It feels like my marriage took a turn for the worse.
Something shifted between us, and I don’t know what it is.
I’ve tried to understand him and be patient.
But my patience is running thin when all he does is tell me half-assed excuse after excuse and now this. Accusing me of cheating on him with Ez.
I stand up and look at myself in the mirror, wiping away my tears, not even recognizing the person I was just now. This isn’t like me. I hate heated arguments. I’ve always done my best to not yell like that. But right now, it got the best of me.