Page 54 of Love Complicated

My eyes focus on his Adam’s apple protruding in his neck, bobbing as he swallows hard. “Not the entire time.” He hesitates, taking in my expression. He knows what ever he says next will hurt me just as bad. With every word, he’s destroying any love I may have had left for the father of my children. His next words bring so much anger I forget where we’re at and the tiny hearts we made together. “Only every once in a while.”

My eyes drift to a knife on the counter. Tempting. If this was like theSawmovies, which body part would I cut off first? His dick.Definitelyhis fucking dick.

I nod, my focus on the plate of carrots and ranch. I lift my eyes to his. “So why marry me then?”

He’s staring at me now, tight jaw, pain in his eyes, his hands forming fists. “I don’t want to fucking do this with you right now.” His shakes his head back and forth, refusing to argue. “I don’t see how any of this is relevant.”

“You’re a fucking pussy, you know that? Can’t even admit to your wife that you screwed around on her.”

“Like you wanted to fucking marry me anyway!” he yells, coming right back at me. “You and I both know had you not gotten pregnant, it would have been over between us the moment Ridge Lucas showed his face in town again.”

Valid assessment, asshole.

“How dare you try to put this bullshit on me when you were fucking around!” I yell, feeling relief from the words delivered harshly, my pain, my anger, filling the room. “Ineverhad sex with Ridge. May have wanted to, but I didn’t. I choseyou, and look where that got me. In the middle of a nasty divorce and friendless!” I shout back at him. “You’re a sorry son of a bitch, you know that?”

Austin says nothing to me.Nothing.

There becomes a point in a divorce when you scramble for understanding. It gets ugly, remember? You blame. You blame anything and anyone because accepting the fact that you did anything wrong isn’t possible.

Turning away from me, his hand runs through his hair and then hanging loosely on his hips. He’s facing me again, his back to the door. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve been fucking Brie as long as I’ve been with you. There. I said it. Happy? Nothing’s going to change the fact that it’s over between us. It has been for years.”

Behind him, my stare goes to two sets of eyes, devastated by what they’ve just heard.

Austin turns and sees the boys standing there, having heard most of our conversation.

He leans in to whisper, “Was that your plan? Turn them against me too?”

My eyes stare, my mouth tightens. I’m being stubborn, unwilling to give up. “You’re doing that on your own, Austin.”

When Austin filed for divorce, he claimed he didn’t want to make this ugly, but I knew it wasn’t going to work out that way. Not with the resentment we both had.

I lean down to them, grabbing their hands. I feel horrible. They shouldn’t have witnessed that. “Boys—”

Cash shakes me off and steps forward, shoving Austin back. “I hate you! Leave. We don’t want you here, and Mommy doesn’t either.”

His shouted words are like a punch to the stomach.

Austin isn’t expecting that. He stares down at his son, and then he looks at me for a long time without saying a word. And I think, that’s it, he’s going to explode on him. The planes of his face, his expression, he’s hurt.

I swallow tears I won’t let run, wanting to pull Cash and Grady into my arms when Austin takes the plate of carrots I had and sends it flying toward the wall. It shatters on impact, and he jabs his finger in Cash’s direction. “You have no idea what it’s like to be a man and have responsibilities. You’re kids!” he shouts, and then walks out.

He’s showing them a side of him, as ugly as it is, it tells them everything they need to know about their father and his priorities.

They watch him leave but don’t say anything.

When the door slams shut and the tires squeal on pavement, Cash turns to me, breathes, slow and deep, his face full of emotions no little boy should have.

My eyes sting, and I can’t stop the tears from falling. “I love both of you,” I tell them, my honesty real, and I can’t stop the words from trembling against my lips.

Their small flickers of lashes, long and dark, catch, and two sets of sad blue eyes meet mine. “I know, Mommy,” Cash whispers, wrapping his arms around my neck. “I love you.”

I blink, lips dry, my voice cracking. I feel angry and humiliated, but I’m not going to make excuses for what they saw.

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