Page 17 of If I Didn’t Have You

“But I got you flowers!”

“Because the florist handed them to you and told you to bring them to me!” I shouted. “When are you going to learn that everyone in this town knows everything? The moment you left the shop, five people told me what happened in there. Do you know how humiliating that is for me—to have everyone around me know just how lazy you’ve gotten over the years when it comes to even the smallest gesture?”

The anger on his face quickly turned to shame, but instead of saying something like I’m sorry, he stormed out of the room. Defeated, I sat down at the desk, my joy over my computer quickly vanishing. I hadn’t meant to say all those things to him, but it had built up over the years until it all came rushing out. I couldn’t have stopped it if I wanted to.

But instead of helping the situation, all I did was hurt him. Nobody liked having their flaws pointed out, especially by the one person who was supposed to love them through all of it.

Shutting down my computer, I headed to the kitchen to make dinner. The joy of the moment had passed. Tomorrow, I would play around with it. Tomorrow, I would do something for myself.

Tomorrow seemed a long time away.

6

BEN

I stiffened when I felt Clara peek around the corner of the living room where I was working.

“Dinner’s ready.”

I grunted in response, still trying to figure out what the hell to say to her after she so easily flung all my mistakes in my face. No, I wasn’t the best husband, and I had slacked over the years. I knew that. There wasn’t a single day I wasn’t reminded of how easy it was to love her in the beginning. But somewhere along the way, we drifted apart.

I still loved her just as much as the day I met her, but something had shifted between us. We were no longer that young couple in love, and time had proved that more than anything else we encountered.

After cleaning up, I headed into the kitchen, sitting down at the table that was painfully silent. There were no kids tonight to break up the tension. Jeff had fled the premises and hadn’t returned, knowing it was only the beginning.

We didn’t fight often, but when we did, Clara held out until I apologized. It was always me. Why the hell was I always the one who had to apologize? Yes, what she said was true. It was also completely unnecessary for her to say. Did she really think I wasn’t aware of my failures as a husband?

As I looked at her from across the table, it was clear that she thought I was totally oblivious.

“Dinner looks good,” I said, hoping to break the tension.

“You’re welcome.”

I frowned for a second before I caught on to the barb. So, that’s how she wanted to play it.

“Thank you for this amazing meal,” I smiled, waiting until she looked up at me with hope in her eyes. “It’s greatly appreciated after I just spent hours tearing down a damn wall to expand this home that just two of us live in now.”

She dropped her fork and knife, letting them clatter against the plate. “Yes, it’s nice that you finally got up off your ass and did some real work around here.”

I smiled tightly at her. “Well, after thirty years of ranching, doing the hard, backbreaking work, it was nice to have a rest. But you’re right. There’s a time for that, and it’s over. Now, I get to spend my days needlessly tearing apart a house I built with my father, all to please you. And trust me, I’m enjoying every second of it.”

She picked up her wine glass and took a sip. “Maybe once the kitchen is finished, you can learn to cook your own meals. After all, if I die before you, I hardly think you’ll be able to survive on chips.”

“Maybe one of my kids will take me in,” I grumbled, cutting into the steak.

“Highly unlikely, seeing as none of them is interested in taking care of another child.”

I slammed my fork and knife onto the plate, glaring at my wife. “Is that really how you see me?”

“Well, since you can’t cook, do your own laundry, clean the house, or do even the simplest thing for yourself, I would say yes.”

“At least I know the meaning of an honest day’s work!”

“You think it’s not work to take care of you? To raise those kids all on my own? To go to bed every night dreading the next day because you know you’ll just have to get up and do it all over again?” she shouted.

“It’s not like you were slaving away in the fucking cold!”

“No, just bringing in all the firewood to keep your feet warm at night,” she snapped before storming away.