Chapter 5
Theo
Ididn’t get home until after nine. The house was quiet, no more than usual, only still. I loosened my tie as I walked through the front door.
“Jo?”
No answer came. I smiled to myself. She was probably upstairs reading, or she’d fallen asleep on the couch again after telling herself she’d only close her eyes for five minutes.
I found her in the living room with a book resting open in her lap. She looked up when I walked in.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.”
I crossed the room and kissed her forehead. “How was your day?”
“Fine.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “It was busy.”
“I know the feeling.”
I dropped onto the opposite end of the couch with a sigh. “I don’t think I sat down once.”
She gave me a small smile. “You usually don’t.”
I laughed. “Fair point.”
The room fell quiet, comfortable enough, though quieter than usual. I glanced toward the kitchen.
“Did you eat?” I asked.
“I did.”
“You should’ve waited.”
“It’s after nine, Theo.”
I checked the time on my watch. “I didn’t realize it was that late.”
“The board meeting ran over?”
“And legal.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Everything seemed to happen at once today.”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“For what?”
“The weekend.”
She looked down at her book. “I know you didn’t want to cancel.”
“I really didn’t.”
“I know.”
“It wasn’t like I had a choice.”
She didn’t answer. I frowned slightly.
“I mean, Lilian was sick.”
“I know.”
“Sofia was panicking.”
“I know.”
“Mom didn’t know what to do.”
“I know.”
Something about the way she kept saying those two words unsettled me. She sounded tired rather than angry.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
Her eyes met mine. “What don’t you understand?”
“You’re still upset.”
She was quiet for a few seconds. “I’m disappointed.”
“Because we missed one weekend?”
“It’s not about one weekend.”
“Then what is it about?”
She studied me for a moment, weighing whether to answer, then closed her book.
“When we were driving home from lunch...”
I nodded.
“You said you were going to clear your schedule.”
“I was.”
“You were excited.”
“I was.”
“So was I.” She rested her hands in her lap. “For a few hours, I thought we were finally going to have something that belonged to us.”
“We will.”
“Theo...”
“We’ll reschedule.”
Her expression changed so subtly that someone else might have missed it, and I couldn’t read what it meant.
“I know we’ll reschedule,” she said.
“Then why are we having this conversation?”
She looked at me for a long moment. “Because you still think the problem is the trip.”
I blinked. “Isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Then help me understand.”
She took a slow breath. “When Sofia called...”
I nodded.
“You decided to go before you even looked for another option.”
“There wasn’t another option.”
“Did you ask?”
I frowned. “Ask who?”
“Anyone.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “I didn’t need to.”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t see what else I was supposed to do.”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t have helped your family.”
“Then what are you saying?”
She held my gaze. “I’m saying you never stopped to consider whether helping them had to mean disappointing me.”
I stared at her. “I don’t...”
The sentence died before I finished it, because I didn’t know what she wanted me to say. Lilian had been sick. Sofia had needed help. I’d gone. What else was there?
Josephine gave me a sad smile. “That’s the problem.”
“What is?”
“You really don’t understand why I’m hurting.”
I searched her face, hoping I’d suddenly see whatever she was seeing, and nothing came. To me, I’d done what anyone would have done, helped my family through an emergency. Our weekend had been canceled and I hated that, though emergencies happened. We’d book another trip, we’d have another weekend.
I reached for her hand. “We’ll make it up.”
She let me hold it, and her fingers didn’t close around mine. For the first time since we’d been married, I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was trying to solve a problem I didn’t actually understand.
Michael was waiting in my office Monday morning, a mug of coffee in one hand and yesterday’s financial report in the other. He didn’t bother looking up as I walked in.
“You were supposed to meet me for breakfast,” he said.
I stopped. “Damn.”
He finally glanced over. “I figured you’d forgotten.”
“I did.”
“I waited twenty minutes.”
I set my briefcase on the desk. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly life-changing.”
“No.”
“But it got me thinking.”
I loosened my tie and sat down. “Go on.”
He took another sip of coffee. “Josephine called me yesterday.”
That caught my attention. “She did?”
“No.” He smiled. “I wanted to see if you’d panic.”
I let out a breath. “You’re an ass.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
I shook my head. “What were you thinking about?”
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Breakfast.”
“What about it?”
“You forgot.”
“I admitted that.”
“You apologized.”
“I did.”
“And if we rescheduled, I wouldn’t care.”
“Exactly.”
He nodded once. “Because I’m not your wife.”
I frowned. “Where’s this going?”
“How many times have you canceled on Josephine this year?”
I thought about it. “I don’t know.”
“Take a guess.”
“A few.”
“A few?”
“I haven’t been keeping count.”
“I have.”
That made me laugh. “You actually counted?”
“I started noticing a pattern.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Anniversary dinner.”
I looked away.
“The weekend at the lake.”
I stayed quiet.
“Your birthday dinner because David locked himself out of his house.”
“I remember.”
“Date night because your mother wanted you to look at a contractor’s estimate.”
“She needed advice.”
“I’m not finished.” He kept going. “The concert tickets, the winery, the theater, the dinner with Gwen and Oscar.”
Each one came back to me as he said it, and every single one had a reason.
“They weren’t random cancellations,” I said.
“I know.”
“There were circumstances.”
“I know.”
“My family needed me.”
“I know.” He sighed. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
I leaned back in my chair. “I don’t see your point.”
“My point is simple.” He met my eyes. “You cancel on Josephine more than anyone else in your life.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“I’ve postponed business meetings.”
“You’ve postponed them.”
I nodded.
“You’ve rescheduled clients.”
“I have.”
“You’ve moved board meetings.”
“When I had to.”
“But Josephine?” He paused. “You cancel.”
I frowned. “What’s the difference?”
“The intention.”
I shook my head. “A meeting gets moved because it has to.”
“And Josephine?”
“We just pick another day.”
Michael stared at me for a long moment. “You really don’t hear yourself.”
“I think you’re making this into something bigger than it is.”
“I think you’re making it smaller.”
I folded my arms. “She understands my family.”
“She loves your family.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t mean she enjoys coming last.”
The words hung between us. I pushed back immediately.
“She doesn’t come last,” I said.
“Doesn’t she?”
“No.”
“When your mother calls?”
“That’s different.”
“When David needs something?”
“He gets himself into situations.”
“When Sofia panics?”
“She’s a single mother.”
Michael nodded slowly. “You always have an explanation.”
“Because there is one.”
“What explanation does Josephine get?”
I answered without thinking. “The truth.”
He gave a small, disappointed smile. “No, Theo.” He stood and set his coffee mug on my desk. “She gets whatever’s left.”
The words stayed in the office long after he stopped speaking.
“That’s not fair,” I said.
“Maybe not.” He picked up the financial report he’d brought with him. “I’m not saying you’re a bad husband.”
“I know.”
“I think you love Josephine.”
“I do.”
“I don’t question that.”
“Then what are we arguing about?”
He looked at me for a moment before answering. “I’m arguing that love isn’t the same thing as priority.”
I let out a quiet breath. “I’ve heard enough marriage advice for one morning.”
“I’m not giving you marriage advice.”
“No?”
“I’m telling you what I’ve watched happen over the last few years.” He walked toward the door. “Do with it what you want.”
“I will.”
He stopped with his hand on the handle. “For what it’s worth, I hope I’m wrong.”
“So do I.”
The door closed behind him. I sat back in my chair and looked through the glass wall of my office at the city below.
Michael meant well, he always had, and he was looking at everything from the outside.
He didn’t know my family the way I did. He hadn’t been there when Dad died and I became the person everyone leaned on.
He hadn’t seen Sofia trying to raise Lilian alone.
He hadn’t spent years watching David stumble from one crisis to the next.
Someone had to be dependable, and if that person happened to be me, then so be it.
Josephine understood that. She always had.
I opened my calendar. Wednesday evening, already blocked off for dinner with Jo.
I smiled to myself. I’d take her somewhere she’d been wanting to try, and maybe afterward we’d walk along the river the way we used to.
If the week stayed quiet, I’d even look at booking another weekend away, somewhere nicer than the lake.
The resort had only mattered because we’d be together, so the location wasn’t the point.
Time together was, and I’d make sure she got that.
The thought settled easily in my mind. The weekend had been disappointing and I hated that, though disappointment wasn’t permanent. I’d make it up to her. I always did.
Satisfied, I closed my calendar and reached for the first file on my desk. As far as I was concerned, the problem wasn’t our marriage. It was finding the right time to make things right.