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“Fucking asshole, you finally came home.”
“Lana, I’m sorry, baby,” I said, slurring my speech.
“Don’t apologize. I know its bullshit. I can’t deal with this anymore.”
I felt a bolt of fear go through me that sobered me up fast, “What do you mean you can’t deal with it anymore?”
“I don’t know if I want to marry you. I’m twenty-five, and I sit around waiting for you, hoping you’ll change. You’re drunk. Where the fuck were you?”
“I told you I went to Clancy’s with Miguel and Grace.”
“You can find the time to go out with your friends, but to make an appointment to select a cake, you can’t do.”
“I told you we had issues with two projects. Those are almost solved.”
“Then why are you still coming home late?”
“Zane, I don’t think you’re ready.”
“I’m ready. I’ve never been more ready in my life. I need you.”
“You don’t need me; you want me. There’s a big difference. You want some pretty girl on your arm when you attend parties. You want me to be home waiting for you. I need a life with my husband not to stay home alone. Did you ever think to invite me?”
“You hate Miguel.”
“I don’t hate him. I wish he would stop acting like a teenager. Every time you’re with him, you act like an ass.”
“I don’t want to argue.”
“Then you need to change. I’m giving all I can, but I’m at the end of my rope. I don’t want to end up divorcing you in six months. We need to work this out. I think we should go to counseling.”
“You think our problem is that big that we need an intermediary?”
“Yes. You won’t listen to me when I tell you. You cater to everyone but me. I feel you take me for granted, and I hate it. Have I become so far down on your priority list that I don’t matter?”
“Fuck no. Baby, I love you. I’m sorry.”
“I said to stop apologizing. It’s meaningless because you say it so much.”
“Because I am. I want you to know that.”
“You won’t have to say it so much if you would just stop fucking up all the time.”
I sigh deeply, “Make the appointment. I’ll go. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Really?”
“I said, yes. I want this to work. I don’t want to marry you and have you resent me night after night.”
“When should I make it for?”
“As soon as the therapist can see us. Do you want me to set it up?”
“No. There’s a therapist in the building I work in. Would you mind if I set up the session with her?”
“Do it.”
I love when she’s all fiery and angry, it makes for great sex, but I won’t go near her when I’m drunk. I head to my office as she walks towards our bedroom.
