Page 48 of Every Good Thing
“I wanted to be with you, to take care of you, not go through a fucking interrogation.”
“A fucking interrogation?” she cries out. “That’s what you think I do to you? If I didn’t ask questions, you wouldn’t talk to me at all. And that seems to be how you’d prefer it.”
“No, damn it!”
Startled by our raised voices, a mallard nearby flaps with irritation before taking flight, forcing us both to pause and reset. Pull it in.
I take a breath. “I’m sorry, truly. I should’ve told you about her and her former significance. It’s just that I’ve missed us. I didn’t want to waste last night, or any night, on her.”
Her brow pinches into what looks like sympathy. “I’m sorry, too. I don’t mean to interrogate you. Or overthink things. It’s just… I told you everything about Mark.”
“Information I didn’t need or want.”
“Maybe not, but at least you knew he existed. And damn, I wanted to tell you, the same way I want to tell you when I have cramps or feel anxious or when Ruthie says something funny. I want to tell you everything—”
“I’m not like you—”
“You used to open up to me. Intimacy is more than having sex and sharing a bathroom. We’re supposed to be partners. We’re supposed to be close.”
“Close? We haven’t been close in months. How can we be close when we’re never together? You don’t have time for me.” The pressure shifts away from me and onto her—a relief—but I hate how her shoulders slump and her eyes water.
“I’m sorry,” she says sternly. “I never meant to make you feel neglected.”
“I feel… alone.” The word slips out, and I immediately want to reverse it, even if it’s true. I want to erase this entire conversation.
Pale and pained, she gawks as if one word has stolen what her body needs, leaving her weak and faint. “Alone? How can you feel alone? I’m right here.”
“You’re never here for me. You give Saddletree 110 percent, and I respect you for it. But there’s nothing left over. I average about five minutes of your time daily, and it’s usually about Ruthie.”
“That’s not fair. I always have time for you. You have to ask.”
“I’ve tried. Have you forgotten all the times I’ve asked you to have dinner or take a walk, all the horseback rides and beach days you’ve turned down? I’ve tried scheduling time with you, but you forget or back out. There’s always something keeping you from us. Something has to change. I want our lives to center around us, not Saddletree.”
She rubs her head near yesterday’s bruise. “I want that, too, and I’m trying.”
“Are you? You run your business like a dog park—you open the gate and let everyone frolic and play with little supervision. I offer help constantly, but you refuse to implement any suggestions. It’s frustrating living with someone who prefers chaos.”
“Ben, what the fuck? How can you say that to me? I don’t prefer chaos.”
“Your business is badly managed. You have little time for your family. Your head is always spinning. And you drive like a maniac to make your appointments. The evidence proves it.”
She’s devastated, eyes brimming with hurt like she doesn’t know who I am. I’m not sure I know, either. I should be dropping to my knees and begging for her forgiveness, but fear prevents me.
“It needed to be said,” I mutter weakly, trying to convince myself.
She exhales in a long puff that makes her bottom lip quiver. “So, I’m the Queen of Chaos, and my business is a shitshow. That’s what you really think of me?”
“Um, well, that’s not what I said, but—”
“You’re an asshole for turning this around on me.” Her finger goes up in a weak accusation. “Again! You blindsided me with your interview and Lauren. You’ve kept a decade of your life a damn secret from me. I looked like a clueless idiot in front of her, my staff, and my friends, thanks to you. This is about you, Ben. Not me.”
“No, it isn’t—”
“You lied. You. This isn’t my fault. How can you blame me for the distance between us when you’ve held back the entire time?”
“Only about this one thing. I didn’t think it mattered.”
“That’s not true, either. It matters so much that you’ve derailed this discussion by belittling my business and making me feel small and incapable—that’s a first for you. I’ll add it to the list of things I never thought you’d do. Lying. Spending time with old girlfriends—oops, no, fiancée. And now, making me feel like shit.”
