“That’s completely unfair. We both realize and accept you’re your own man. Before, you were apologetic, and now this icy shoulder? What point are you trying to make? Tell me, Easton, I need to know.”
“I’m not changing my mind. I’m not divorcing her. You can’t just snap my happiness away like it’s a toy I’m no longer allowed to play with.”
“We reacted and overreacted the way we did because it was warranted. We never asked you to end your marriage. And where is she, son? This woman you chose to give yourself to, knowing the damage it would do to your family and hers?”
I lift my eyes to hers.
“My wife is currently trying to salvage her relationship with her father, trying to earn back his trust. Meanwhile, we’re both trying to work around all of your fucking collective tantrums and mood shifts. So, where is my wife? In hell, that’s where she is. Blaming herself, punishing herself, because she doesn’t feel like she deserves happiness with me, because your fucking husband made her feel like she didn’t—along with her own fucking father, who still doesn’t!”
The first three weeks, we threw ourselves into work, her getting ready for the thirtieth edition of the paper while planning the party to honor him. Instead of rewarding her, Nate’s made it nearly impossible for us to connect. Filling her schedule, he’s sent her as a liaison for Hearst Media to every party, every convention, and every thing imaginable on the East Coast to keep her from joining me on tour. What’s worse? She’s allowed it. His ploy to keep her away from me, a calculated chess move as he forces her to pay penance for loving me. As of a week ago, she’s home. But, he’s kept her scrambling to keep up with his demands, all the while keeping her locked out personally. I have no doubt that right now, she’s only placating her father to try and get back to me while he does everything he can to hasten her future without me—continually driving an axe between us. Something is going on that I can’t place. At this point, I think we’re being polite to protect the other from what’s truly happening in each of our lives. Her more so than me since my accumulating resentment is the only thing I’m withholding.
She’s hiding, and there’s not a fucking thing I can do about it—or I might lose her. Even as we make time to keep connected—every chance we get—I feel the drift, and because she’s allowing it, I’m losing wind.
I can’t fight alone. We’ve fought twice since we got married, and both times ended with her tears and my murmured apologies—even if I felt justified in my anger. She hasn’t so much as tried to come to see me because she believes she can still get through to him.
Every day I ache for her, and every single day she assures me of her returned affection. Though I believe her, I need something more because I feel like I’m swinging in the dark. Thirty years ago, Nate rivaled my father for the affection of the woman he held most dear. History is repeating itself now, and he’s doing it again, but this time he’s winning.
“She’s coming,” I inform my mother. “And when she does, it will be your choice to make.”
“This is supposed to be the happiest time of your life,” Mom says, shaking her head, her expression bleak. “I want that for you so much.”
“Yeah, I believe it’s called the honeymoon phase.” I finally look over to her. “Do you know my wife didn’t recognize my body on FaceTime the other night because Benji’s been to two shows and inked me, and I forgot to mention it. Does that sound like a good honeymoon to you?”
“I’m talking career-wise.”
“Having a blast,” I say dryly, tugging on my beer. “Can’t you tell?”
The silence that follows cuts us both as her expression falters and her eyes fill with tears.
“Mom, please don’t get upset.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do? I have no idea what to do here.”
“My fight is with Dad and with my wife’s father. I’m not in a good place.” I roll my head against the back of the couch. “Go back to your hotel, okay? Get some sleep, and we can have breakfast before we roll out tomorrow.”
“You’re pissed at me, too, and taking it out on your father because you’re scared of putting my health at risk. You’ve made a bad habit of doing that over the years. He’s not your enemy.”
“You always hurt the ones you love, right?” My chuckle lacks all humor.
“Easton, you have to understand that what you did was…” she shakes her head.