Page 16 of Bad Husband

I’m feeling like shit as I walk down the hall to the bedroom where Madison is, half expecting the door to be locked.

Surprisingly, it’s not. There’s hope then, right?

Maybe. And that’s a slim fucking maybe after today.

She’s there, lying on the bed with a book in hand. I don’t bother looking to see what book because it doesn’t really matter. What matters is what she looks like lying on our bed. Fucking stunning. I’ll never get over how naturally beautiful my wife is.

Look at her.

Her hair is down, framing her face like a curtain, her skin perfectly tan with the right amount of glow. For a second, I want to lie down beside her, brush my knuckles over her cheek and tell her I love her. But I don’t. Maybe it’s my pride again, but I stay rooted in place by the door contemplating what I’m going to say to her. She filed for divorce today. I know she gave me a bunch of reasons earlier but that’s not all. There’s something more to this and I’m going to find out what it is.

As I stand there in the doorway of the bedroom, she’s unaware of my presence in the room. Part of me wonders how long I could stand there and watch her before she notices me.

Clearing my throat softly, her attention moves from the book to me.

“Is Callan asleep?”

“Yeah.” Our eyes lock, and I’m curious what she’ll do. Nothing. I nod and fold my arms over my chest. “By the way, he wants to go to Ukraine for his birthday.”

She laughs. She’s probably heard this all before.

Her laughter ignites my smile, and I shake my head. Focus, Ridley. Get some answers.

I kick the door shut, much like I did earlier today but softer this time because I don’t want to wake up Callan.

“Why are you having him play soccer? It’s pretty obvious he doesn’t even like soccer, Mad.”

Rolling her eyes, she acts like even being in the same room as me annoys the everliving fuck out of her. “It’s good for him to do something that helps him fit in with the other kids.”

“Why are we trying to make him be something he’s not. Let him be who he wants to be, not what’s socially acceptable. He’s almost seven. If we start telling him who has to be now, what’s that teaching him?”

“He asked me to play soccer, Ridley,” she says with a light bitterness to her tone.

“Well, he spent the whole practice reading hisNational Geographic. And I met some of the other dads. They seem like fucking tools if you ask me.” I smile and believe me when I say it’s condescending, and I’ve fucking perfected that smile. “Who’s Kent?”

Madison shrugs and I kind of believe the shrug. “I don’t know, some other dad.”

“What about that Kip guy you were talking about? Who’s he?”

This look isn’t as believable. Kip is someone Ineedto look into. “Nobody.”

There’s a sourness in the pit of my stomach. Has she turned to someone else? “Nobody my ass,” I mumble with a regretful shake of my head as I push away from the door. “I’m not leaving here until you give me some answers.”

I’m given a stare I don’t like very much. Do you see that lift of her eyebrow and the pressed-together lips? She’s pissed at me. “So now you want answers?”

I attempt to offer her a similar look, but I’m not sure I achieved it. By the way her expression doesn’t change, I’m sure mine did nothing to faze her. “Well, yeah, you served me with divorce papers.”

“Maybe you should stop focusing on the actual papers and the fact that I gave them to you and think about why.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that just like I said before, when was the last time you were home at three in the afternoon? Never. And the only reason you came home was because you didn’t get answers and wanted them. Well, I want things too. I want a husband who actually gives a shit about me and our sons.”

I know what you’re thinking. If your wife filed for divorce because you’re never around, why not just change it and spend more time at home?

The truth is, I love my wife and I love my kids. I don’t work long hours because Idon’twant to be around them. I work them to provide a life for us, one where they enjoy the comforts I never had being raised by essentially a single mother.

I had a relationship with my dad, but I didn’t live with him. Until my mom died and I was forced to. Up until then, it had just been my mother and me, and I swore, fucking swore Madison would never live like that.

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