Page 54 of Speak of the Devil

“You’re twisting my words to fit a narrative you seem set on creating. Iwouldgo if I could, Shane. I can’t because I don’t have the time off earned this year. Those days were spent trying to buy a house and finding out I’m married.”

“Weare married. To each other.”

“You say that like I don’t know.” Dumbfounded by a fight that sprouted from nowhere, I say, “A piece of paper doesn’t change anything. We didn’t get married because we wanted to. It’s only a mis?—”

“Don’t say it.”

I secure the towel on my chest and cautiously walk closer to him. “You’re not being fair. You can’t toss our marriage around like we ever exchanged vows. We didn’t. We didn’t choose each other. The state did.” We stand at an impasse, righteous in our own minds.

He steps away, letting cold air breeze between us, covering me in goose bumps. I say, “I added a new retirement home this week to my already busy portfolio. I’m sorry, babe. It’s just not a good time.”

“Fuck the job and just be with me.” The sincerity in his voice and the plea to his tone have me wanting to comfort him in ways I don’t think he’ll let me. He only wants a yes because that’s all he ever hears.

But I can’t give it to him. Not this time. “I love what I do. I love the routine, the patients, and even the bad food they serve in the homes.”

“You love beige. You love boring?—”

“I love my life and did before you re-entered it like a storm on a mission to destroy it.”

A visible change starts with his expression, hardening until it’s not the same as Shane’s usual handsome face. “You love your career, but you don’t love me.” Pain and anger merge in his eyes, his breathing coming hard. “Or not enough to sacrifice it.”

“How can you say that when we haven’t even said the words to each other?”

The fight leaves his body, his shoulders lowering with his tone when he says, “Because we felt it. I know you did, too.”

He’s right. I did feel it. Idofeel it . . . I love him, and he’s destroying everything in his path. He warned me he would. I can’t let him. I can’t let him destroy me. “Please,” I whisper, another wave of the tears I thought I had cried returning to drown me this time. “Shane, please. We can talk instead of shout?—”

“This was a mistake.”

“You coming to see me wasn’t a mistake.”

His walls rise as if triggered by a thief who broke in to steal his heart. He stares at me with blue eyes iced over. “That’s not what I was referring to.”

I thought as much, but I don’t want to confirm it.

This is not the man I know, the one whose world seemed to brighten just because I walked back into it. I don’t recognize himin this form, but I need to acknowledge this is who he is—a rock star with an ego bigger than our flourishing love could ever be.

He sighs, and I can see the love leaving his eyes, the exhaustion returning to snuff out the ember I had lit. I know he wants to fight his rage to soften the blow, but I don’t think he’ll be able to save himself, much less the bystander he claims to love.

At a loss for words or words he doesn’t want to voice, he leaves the bathroom and me still standing in a towel. I put on my armor the best I can and follow him, knowing I would have followed him anywhere a few hours before unless it keeps me from paying my bills. That’s something that he doesn’t have to think twice about. One of many troubles he’ll never experience, if he ever did.

There’s no point in fighting because the battle has already been lost. I swallow my pride and walk around him to the door. Opening it wide, I lean against the edge holding the knob behind me. “How did it all go wrong so quickly?”

I’m not really asking. The signs have been there all along. But he still feels the need to respond. “It was never supposed to. It was supposed to be one night.”

“Another fuck to add to your scorecard, and then you’d be gone.” I nod, looking down. I can’t bear to hold my head higher with a knife stabbing my heart. “Got it.”

His feet don’t move, and he doesn’t fill the gap of silence with more hurtful words. All that exists between us now is the pain we’ve caused each other. It’s torture, but I won’t throw him out. When he leaves, I’ll know there’s no coming back from this. Though I’m pretty sure we’re already there.

I watch his feet step closer to me, stopping before he reaches the threshold of our ending. “Cat?” It’s only a breath of a whisper filled with the same turmoil I feel inside.

And then his phone buzzes in his pocket.

I release a long-held breath, disappointment wrapping itself around my aching heart. I don’t bother looking into his eyes. I don’t need to carry his pain with mine. “You should get that . . . outside my apartment.”

I start counting in my head, silently begging him to go so he doesn’t have to witness more tears of mine, especially the ones I cry over him. He leaves just before I reach nine, standing on the doormat for a few seconds longer, and then he’s gone.

I’m not sure how long I remain with the slight breeze slipping in, the air turning cooler with the later hour, or even when there are no more headlights to reinforce the hope that we could have a second chance.

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