Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Bailey
Idon’t even get a hello. Just the obligatory kiss on the head before he wanders off for a shower.
It’s already past eight, and his dinner is cold now. Starting at the bank, I knew I’d be pulling long hours, but neither of us realized Chad would be too.
I think we’ve spoken a handful of words all week.
The thing is, if I didn’t love him so much, I would have given up on this relationship a long time ago because our problems should be so easily fucking solved.
Chad is just too stubborn or too in his damn head to get past it. I’m struggling to keep biting my tongue. I’ve been supportive, I’ve tried to be understanding, but I’ve reached a point where I’m furious with him for being such a baby about this.
He stumbles into the room, eyes bloodshot and smelling like the rose bath wash I use, before dropping into an armchair.
“Good day?” I ask dryly.
He drops his gaze.
It sets my teeth on edge. “No promotion yet, then?”
“Can you just …” He palms his forehead. “I’m tired.”
He doesn’t have to be. That’s the real killer. That our current state is all his doing, and I’m scared he will never be happy. I can’t keep my mouth shut any longer. “Then don’t be.”
“What?”
“Quit.”
He scoffs and turns away. We’ve had this discussion before, but not for a long time, and I can’t keep watching him struggle.
“You know—”
“I don’t know anything,” I snap. “Nope. None. All you’ve given me are excuses, and you know what? I’m getting tired. Of them, of you, of our whole situation.”
His gorgeous puppy dog eyes meet mine. “Me?”
The hurt in his tone breaks through my anger and makes me want to cry. I have to unstick my throat to let the truth out. “Yeah. We’re in trouble, Chad.”
“But …”
“I can’t keep doing this with you. I have a stressful job too. I work long hours too.”
“Then you should understand.”
“But I do those things because I love my job! You don’t. You hate it. You’re not you anymore, and the Chad I met in college would have thrown himself out a window before working himself into the ground over something he isn’t passionate about.”
“It’s called maturing.”
“It’s called giving up.”
We glare at each other from across our living room. A room that isn’t lived in at all.
“What are you saying?” he whispers.
“I …” I throw up my hands. “I can’t keep seeing you so miserable and not say anything.”
“I’ve just gotta pay my dues here, Bailey.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been saying that for two years, and what exactly are you paying for? What are you expecting?”
He shoots to his feet and starts pacing. The restless energy burning through him is something I haven’t seen in a long time. “I … I want to get ahead. I want to have a job I’m proud of. That you’re proud of.”
Well, that’s a new one. “That I’m proud of?”
“Come on. We both know I don’t deserve you. We both know you can do one hundred times better than a has-been fraternity boy who spent more time partying in college than making something of himself.”
The venom in his tone makes my jaw drop. “Who’s said that to you?” I don’t do a good job of keeping my tone level.
“Everyone says that. Everyone who knows you. We go to your work functions, and I can see the way their eyes change the second you introduce me. I’m embarrassing you to your colleagues, and somehow, you’re the only person who doesn’t see it—or pretends not to.”
My fists are shaking. “Who. Has. Said. That?”
Chad huffs and drops back into the armchair, fight draining from him.
“The guys at work. They’re constantly pointing out that I’m lucky to have a sugar daddy.
Joke about how I’m your pet.” He drops his voice and mutters to his hands.
“That it’s all fun until you’re ready to settle down with someone serious. ”
“Quit.”
Pure frustration fills his face. “I can’t.”
“You fucking can. And you will.” I get up and cross the room, plonking myself right down into his lap.
I crave the closeness. It’s been too long, and I hate the distance that’s been growing between us.
I cup his face and force him to look at me.
“You hate your job. The people you work with are assholes. You’re never home.
I never see you. It’s sucked the fucking life out of you and our relationship.
What the hell are you staying for? To impress some assholes you don’t even know?
To impress some people I work with—half of which will never be impressed because you’re a man anyway. Who. Fucking. Cares?”
“I do.” His tone is soft, and it makes me want to kiss all the doubt away.
“And that’s one of the things I love most about you. That you care. Too much. But you’re caring about the wrong things.”
“Bailey, all of this is for you. How is caring about you wrong?”
“Because you don’t.” It hurts to say, but I have to. “This isn’t for me. It’s for you. And your ego.”
“My ego?” He goes to push me off, but I hold tight.
“No. We are doing this because you need to hear it. Why the hell are you putting everyone else’s opinion before mine?
I love you. I love how ridiculous and passionate and sweet and kind you are.
You’re thoughtful in all the best ways. You make me laugh.
You’re the warm home I always know I can come back to whenever work gets stressful.
You’re my goddamn moon, Chad Doomsen—or at least, you were.
I used to look at you and think you were the most incredible person on the planet.
I felt so fucking awed that you chose a snarky dickhead like me as the person you wanted to be with. Out of everyone. You chose me.”
“You don’t know how amazing you are.”
“Then show me.”
He hesitantly meets my eyes. “How?”
“Quit.”
There’s still too much doubt there. “And then, what? Become the unemployed bum who’s riding on your coattails?”
It’s a real effort not to smack him over the head. “No. You’d be even more miserable without a job. I’m saying that you can do anything. Anything. Find what you’re passionate about, and then go and do that.”
“I don’t think pranking people pays well.”
“Stop thinking about the money.” I sigh, because I know it’s hard for him to hear.
“I don’t need money. Neither do you. On a scale of what I need from this relationship, financial support isn’t even on my list. I know that’s some huge hang-up people have, but there is so, so much more you bring to our relationship.
There is so much I need from you. You, and you alone, can give me every single thing that I need.
We have stacks of money, and we’re both miserable. I don’t want to be miserable anymore.”
He swallows roughly, a tear dripping onto his cheek. “And if I don’t quit?”
“That’s your choice. But I don’t know how much longer I can keep dating an empty shell.”
Chad hauls me to him, wrapping me in the tightest hug he’s maybe ever given me. The shoulder of my shirt is immediately damp as he presses his face into it, and I hold him back just as tightly. Hoping, fucking hoping, that this might finally be it. That I might have gotten through to him.
“It hurts me to see you hurting,” I whisper, carding my fingers through his hair.
“The stress and worry are killing me. I need you to be happy again. I need you to be my larger-than-life frat boy. I need to come home to your warmth. I need to hear about your amazing day. I need to get annoyed that you and Robbie have planned a wild weekend somewhere that you’re leaving for in an hour. I need you to be you again.”
Slowly, he pulls away. “What if I’ve forgotten how?”
“Then I’ll help you remember.”