Page 89 of Bad Husband

Her chin quivers, but she straightens her posture like she’s refusing to let herself cry yet. “I’m not your mom, and you’re not your dad, Ridley. I never asked for any of that. Never once have I complained I didn’t have enough things! No, the only thing I’ve ever complained about is that I didn’t have enough of you. I don’t give a damn about material objects! What good is having ‘everything’ when all it does is make you feel like you’ve got nothing?”

“It’s easy to say that now, Madison, but I never heard one complaint when I would buy you a new car, or we were able to afford the furniture you loved.” I know it’s a dick move to be bringing up all this, but can you honestly fucking blame me at this point? “All I’ve ever done since the day I’ve met you is try and be someone who deserves you and yet again I’m being reminded that I’m failing miserably.”

“I have never asked you to be someone you’re not.” She moves closer to me, but I can’t take the heat of her body near me. I step back. “The night we met at the Halloween party, the cocky, handsome son of a bitch I met that night, that’s who I fell for, not some workaholic who is so disconnected from his family he didn’t know his son played soccer. Seriously, Ridley, is that who you want to be?”

Goddamn it. She has a point. A good one. Still, I’m not budging yet. Do you see me? I cross my arms over my chest defiantly.

And then she continues with, “You can’t tell me that over the last two months you haven’t enjoyed actually getting to know your son? Callan has never been happier than he’s been these last two months. He’s always been content, but it seemed he was constantly trying to find a way to fit into a mold that he thought you would want him to fit into. I think he thought if he were more normal, then maybe you would be around more. You asked me why he played soccer? Well, why do you think? It’s not just to fit with the other kids. It’s because he thought that maybe if he was playing a sport, you would take more notice.”

Fuck, I know what she’s saying is true, but shit, it just proves I’m more of a fuck up than I thought. I’m doing exactly what I always feared, what I suffered through growing up and swore I wouldneverallow to happen to my kids—struggling for their father’s attention. Throwing themselves into activities and behavior to please their parents. I did that for years with my own father.

“I’m listening to everything you’re saying, Madison, but you know what the problem is? All I hear is that you lied to me. That you filed for divorce to fuck with me! Jesus, I don’t even know what to say to you! Do you even understand how fucked up that sounds?”

“I know how fucked up it sounds.” She nods. “I do, and I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I shout, my voice breaking around the blistering words ringing through the yard. “Why couldn’t you have just fucking talked to me instead of making me believe you wanted out?”

Madison takes a deep breath before continuing, and even though her voice is soft, I can hear the embarrassment in her words. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought if I got your attention, you would see the life we’re living, the one where we were nothing more than roommates, and it wouldn’t be the life you wanted anymore.”

“Oh, well hell, you’re forgiven then.” I try to swallow, but I can’t swallow over the dryness. It’s impossible.

“Really?” She’s watching me again as if she will sacrifice the beat in her chest for the break she’s caused in mine. She’s completely freaking out but trying really hard not to let it show. I have to give her credit, she’s doing a good job controlling herself at the moment.

“No. Go fuck yourself.”

Is that harsh? Maybe so, but look at the shit she put me through by filing for divorce to get my attention? Whatever happened to saying, hey, dude, I’m feeling neglected?

The sky around us, once cloudless, rumbles and growls, turning gray, and I know the steady sprinkle is about to turn to a wall of rain, much like the night in Sedona when this all fell apart the first time.

Does it just rain every time we fight?

“I don’t blame you if you hate me,” Madison murmurs. “I expect it. No… Ideserveit.”

“Really?” I shake my head. After everything, she has no idea how much she deserves it. I look back at her, so furiously hurt I’m scared my voice is going to break, and I won’t get out what I need to say. “You expected it? Deserved it? Fucking right you do. Goddamn it, Mad, I love you. And not just any love. It’s the kind of love where I can’t even think straight. I nearly lost my fucking business trying to make you see that. It’s the kind of fucking love where I was half myself for sixty days because by filing those papers, you ripped out my goddamn heart!” I nearly faint after getting all that out, but the look on her face is what sends me to my knees. Nearly. But instead, I walk away from her because I don’t care what she’s going to say to me next.

In her mind, the conversation is far from over, and she continues to chase after me as I walk around the front of the house, intending to leave. “Just talk to me, please,” she begs, sounding like she’s ready to drop to her knees at my feet. “Don’t leave, please, Ridley!”

I fucking hope she falls to her goddamn knees because then she’ll finally be where I’ve been these past two months. Maybe then she’ll finally feel an ounce of pain I’ve endured.

But then again, I don’t want her to trip and hurt herself.

Fuck me for caring.

Turning to leave, Madison reaches to grab my arm, but I sidestep her. “No. No, I need to get out of here. I need to think.”

I can’t even think of facing her. She’s a stranger to me, and I can’t look in her eyes and face the reality that the woman I love, the woman I vowed to win back and have busted my ass to remind why we fell in love in the first place, isn’t the person I thought she was.

“Ridley, please stop. I get you need time to think, but please don’t run. Stay here. I’ll give you all the space you need butplease,don’t leave.”

I stop. The quiver in her voice when she asks me not to leave is enough to force me to stay where I am. It only takes me a minute to realize that I don’twantto leave.

“Why?” I shout. “Give me one good reason as to why I should stay.”

“Because there are some things I need to say to you,” she says, like it’s that easy. She’s caught up with me at the truck as a flash through the sky and a loud crack of thunder silences the two of us.

The sound stops me, and I look at her, throwing my hands in the air. Racing through thoughts, trying to wrap my mind around my own hurt, I ask, “Why? Wanna make me feel like shit some more? Or wait, maybe you could tell me that baby’s not mine.” I motion to her stomach. “Is that what you want to explain?”

“Damn it, Ridley, please.” She breaths out deeply, frustration clear on her face. “Don’t walk away. I just want to talk to you calmly.”

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