Chapter 12 Hazel
Hazel, two years earlier
Pinching my eyes shut, I stretched my arm across the half-empty bed, searching for anything to block the sudden bright light that had awoken me.
When my fingertips found my husband’s vacant pillow, I covered my head with it, but before I could seal it tightly over my eyes, it was ripped from my grasp.
I crept an eye open, squinting up at Devan as he fixed it back into place on his side of the bed.
He shook his head. “That’s mine. I don’t want you getting your makeup all over it,” he told me.
Blinking slowly, I decided I didn’t have enough energy to argue with him at this hour, even though he’d seen me wash my face thoroughly every night since we’d been married.
I sighed and rolled onto my side, doing my best to fall back asleep.
Devan and I worked different hours, which meant our sleep schedules were quite the opposite as well.
I tried to make sure I didn’t disturb him when I came home after working late at the shop, as he usually was asleep by then.
I just wished he made the same effort when he got up for his prework morning runs.
I’d nearly dozed back asleep when the bed suddenly rattled behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Devan sitting on the edge. He violently tore his running shoes from his feet, throwing them across the room into the closet I’d recently organized.
The bed continued to shake with each movement he made as he fisted his sweat-soaked T-shirt and ripped it over his head.
Jesus.
I wanted to complain, but each time I had in the past, it hadn’t been received well.
He’d defend himself and say he wasn’t doing anything wrong and then point the finger at me for not waking up with the rest of the normal world.
I rehearsed the argument in my mind over and over, like all the others, knowing there was no winning. No understanding.
Instead, I used my own pillow to cover my face and waited for him to finish doing whatever else he needed to do before getting in the shower. However, that would only give me five minutes of peace before he was back in here, dressing for work.
The mattress shook as he stood, returning the bed to the still, peaceful cloud I wanted to melt into so I could chase another four hours of sleep.
Five minutes went by and then another, and my body relaxed again, only to be torn from my near-sleep state once more.
I sat upright this time, breathing through my anger so I wouldn’t say anything rash. “What are you doing?” I asked, wondering why he was standing on my side of the bed, hovering over me.
“Like you don’t know.”
I blinked a few times, willing my eyes and my brain to find some form of clarity. “I have no idea, Devan.”
He laughed.
“Can you just tell me instead of making me go through this guessing game?”
“Guessing game, huh? That’s rich, considering I’m over here, wondering if my wife even fucking loves me.” Devan’s eyes were wide. There was a vein popping out on his neck, the one that always made an appearance when he was angry.
I clenched the top of the comforter, chilled by the open bedroom window that hadn’t been open when I went to bed. “What?” I wanted to roll my eyes at such an accusation, but I knew that would not bode well in this situation. “Of course I love you.”
“Yeah?” He jerked his head in disbelief, making the freshly showered threads of his brown hair quiver along his forehead, then raised my phone in the air. “Then why am I just now finding out about the party your friends are suddenly planning for your birthday? Huh?”
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, squinting at the overhead light. He had my text thread from Skylar and Genesis open.
“You don’t have an answer for me?” He jutted his chin.
I slumped my shoulders at his impatience. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you. I just found out about it last night. Check the time stamp. You were already asleep. I was going to tell you today, Devan. They wanted to make it a surprise for me.”
He shook his head, pursing his lips. “That’s such shit. Those two tell you fucking everything!”
I stared blankly. “Yeah, that’s why I now know. They couldn’t keep it a secret anymore and spilled the details a month too soon.”
“Vegas. The three of you? Yeah, that’s not happening.”
I frowned, stunned. “Wh-why? Brian said he’d give me the time off. It’s only three days, and we don’t have any plans that weekend.”
Devan grinned. “Oh, that’s fucking great! Wow! Your boss already knew about it and approved time off, but wait … didn’t you just find out about it last night?”
My frown deepened. “They texted me about this while I was at the shop, so I asked him. Why are you so upset about this?”
“I’m not.” He shrugged with indifference but laughed to himself.
“You wouldn’t have woken me up if you weren’t,” I stated.
He threw my phone down beside me, narrowly missing my face.
I flinched. “Hey!”
His head swiveled in a circle, exasperated. “Oh, it didn’t even fucking touch you.”
I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. It was still dark outside, so I knew it was early, and the yellow glow of numbers confirmed it.
Five forty-one a.m.
“Can we talk about this later, please?” I pleaded. “I’m so tired.”
“I see. So, when you want to talk about all the things that I do that piss you off, I have no choice but to sit back and listen, no matter how wrong I think you are, right? But when you screw up and I bring it to your attention, suddenly, it’s not a good time, huh? Wow. You’re fucking unbelievable.”
I gawked at him. “Devan.”
He turned away from me, taking away my ability to communicate. I waited for him to take a breath and turn back around, but he continued to walk away, snatching his work hat by the door.
Groggy and frustrated, I grabbed the softest thing near me, which happened to be his pillow, and chucked it at him.
The way he spun on his heel the moment it reached him made my pulse skyrocket.
He picked it up and charged, squeezing the pillow in his hands, as if he wanted it to be my throat. “Don’t you ever—” he began, eyes wide and face red.
“I only wanted you to turn back around so I could talk to you!” I said, begging for him to understand. My shoulders tensed, and my heart rattled in my chest. “Please. Help me understand.”
His gaze flickered from anger to pity to disgust. “Why are you sitting there, acting like I’m going to hit you?”
I swallowed, wondering the same thing. Violence was written all over his body language. My body didn’t know how to decipher the difference; it only sensed danger. He might as well have had a hand raised in the air with the way I was bracing for impact.
Devan pursed his lips and stood upright, releasing the pillow from his grasp. “Jelly Bean, if I wanted to hit you, I would’ve done it by now.”
My stomach twisted at his words and how he looked at me when he said them. Expressionless. Calm. Unreadable.
As he pinched the bridge of his nose, I watched his chest fill and deflate with a large sigh.
“I don’t have time to talk about this anymore. I’m going to be late for work.”
I held a breath as he leaned over me, placing a cold peck on my forehead. Muttering an unreadable goodbye, he turned and left.
The window still open.
Light on.
And me, wide awake.