Page 50 of Almost Paradise

“Really? Because there was no rubber involved when you let me put it in your—"

She crosses her arms and interrupts me before I can finish. “Why are you doing this?” she asks after I put on my lounge pants.

“Why am I getting in bed with my wife? That should be self-explanatory.”

“You’re never touching me again.”

“I don’t ever remember any complaints before. In fact, you could never get enough.”

“I will stomp your balls if you even think of getting in this bed.”

“If you want to touch my balls, all you need to do is ask, but no stomping. I’m freaky, but not that freaky. You can do whatever—” She jumps out of the bed and storms out of the room. She’s still fully dressed in the jeans and sweater she had on earlier.

She goes into Carter’s room, and I follow her inside. I reach her before she can get into bed with him. Now, I’m kicking myself for getting Carter that big bed. I wrap my arm around her waist and lift her off her feet. I don’t take her back to the guestroom but back to our room. The room and bed that I’ve only ever shared with her.

I toss her on the California king, and she bounces like a ragdoll. “You’re my wife, and we’re going to share a room and a bed like we should. We are not going to raise our son in some dysfunctional household. If you leave this room, I’ll only bring you back.”

She gets off the bed and takes menacing steps at me. She has her fists clenched at her sides.

“You blackmail me into a marriage I don’t want, and now you want to talk about dysfunctional households? What world do you live in?”

“The world where husbands and wives share a damn bed,” I hiss at her. The last thing I want to do is yell or get into another fight, but she’s slowly pushing me.

“I don’t feel like your wife,” she hisses back. “Not only that, but I don’t want to be,” she yells.

“I don’t give a damn how you feel or what you want! Youaremy goddamn wife!”

She takes a step back when I yell at her. I don’t want to make her more upset than she is right now, but she’s leaving me no choice.

“Well, obviously you don’t give a shit about me,” she yells back. “You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

I raise both hands in surrender and immediately regret my words. They’re not true. I do care about how she feels and what she wants.

“That’s not true, I—”

“Enough with the lies,” she says, interrupting me. “You want to share a bed? Fine, we’ll share a bed. I’ll wait until you fall asleep, and I’ll stick a knife in your cold, black heart like I should have done the other day.” She gestures toward me. “God, I can’t stand the look of you. You think this is some joke? I had a life. A life that I worked really hard for after you and your daddy blew up the other one. It didn’t include any of your bullshit, but because you had a crisis of conscience, I must pay the price.” She turns her back to me and angrily stomps away, but she turns back. She points at me and says, “You know what you are? You’re a spoiled nepo baby who’s had everything handed to him all his life. I bet I’m the first person who has ever told you to go to hell, and you can’t handle that, so you—”

Not willing to hear any more of what she thinks of me, I cut her off and turn the tables. “Everything handed tome?” I ask, pointing at myself. “You can’t possibly be serious. You’re going to throw stones from your glass house, Nia? What about the house your parents paid off and then handed to you and your brother? How about the car your parents bought for you? Remember that apartment you had? The one where I paid your rent and all the bills?”

She takes a step back at my rebuttal. She flares her little nostrils and looks at me in disgust. “I never asked you to pay for a thing. And do you think only rich parents can help their kids? My parents show up for me and my brother because they care. They bought me that car so I can take better care of their grandson, which is a lot more than your parents have ever done. Too bad you don’t know what unconditional love looks like. When your family shows up it’s to cause—”

“If I were you, I’d shut up now before you say something you can’t take back,” I warn.

“It’s to cause nothing but destruction, but I guess the fruit doesn’t fall far from the rotted tree. You’ve condemned me to a loveless marriage to a man I hate.”

The slap she gave me yesterday stung less than this. She looks away from me, turns, and walks toward the bathroom, but I speak before she can go inside. “Well, that’s too damn bad, isn’t it? Whether you hate me or not, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re mywife. You can be as happy or as miserable as you choose. And let’s not talk about parents, sweetheart,” I taunt. “Last time I checked, my father never assaulted anyone.”

“Yeah, he did much worse than that. At least my father is direct, and what he did was to protect me. He did it out of love. What about the great Donald Paradise, huh? He was a two-faced snake just like his son.”

She slams the door hard behind her before I can refute her words. Seconds later, I hear her cries from inside the bathroom. I walk to the door and put my hand on the knob. I rest my forehead against it and wait for her to come out, but the only thing that happens is that her cries turn into gut-wrenching sobs. As awful as things are between us and as cruel as her words have been, I don’t want her to cry. I hate the sound of it, and I wish we were in a place where I could take her in my arms and console her.

“Nia, it doesn’t have to be this way. Please, come out and talk to me.” I regret not removing the locks from the bathrooms too, but I’ve upset her enough for one night, so I don’t try and break the door down. It takes her another ten minutes to come out. I think she’s surprised when she almost collides with me. Her eyes and the tip of her nose are red. Her cheeks are puffy and swollen, and I know I’m responsible.

She goes around me and says, “It’s your world, Paradise. You want me to sleep here? Fine, because I know if I don’t you’ll go after my dad or take my son away from me.” She pulls the covers back on the bed, climbs in, and gives me her back. “Remember what I told you. I’m going to make your life miserable.

She doesn’t speak again after that. I imagine she’s slammed her eyes shut. Even from where I’m standing, her shoulders look tense. I do what I’ve been missing for the past four years and climb into the bed with her. It was never like this in the past. The biggest difference now is that we have clothes on. The second is that she’s not wrapped in my arms, but at least she’s here.

“I don’t want you to be unhappy, Nia.” I put a hand on her shoulder. She tenses before she shrugs it off. “We were happy before. We made a beautiful, perfect boy together. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

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