Page 60 of The Marriage Rebound

Courtney leaned back and tilted her head. “Is that something you’d want to do?”

I mindlessly scrolled through the pages and shrugged. “I don’t know. Like, yeah, we had fights, but I never thought we were so messed up we needed therapy.”

Courtney stretched her arm along the back of the sofa, then gently started playing with strands of my hair. “Just sayin’, I’m willing. And considering we both have parent issues, therapy might not be a bad idea.”

I looked back at her and nodded again. Turning back to the file, I laughed at the topic I’d stopped on: finances.

“What?”

I held up the computer so she could see.

“Not exactly a lighter option,” she said as she got up from the sofa.

I had a momentary worry that she was done and walking away, but she simply stretched, then strolled to the kitchen to finish cleaning up our lunch dishes. I closed the lid then set the laptop back on the ottoman before shifting so I could watch her. She hadn’t ended the conversation, but her choosing to clean up still felt like she was disengaged all the same.

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, waiting to see what she’d say to start.

But this topic was my pick. I glanced around our town house. Three stories, large kitchen, four bedrooms, three-and-a-half bathrooms. It was impressive. Bright. And something I was proud to show off to my parents. Proof that I’d made it. Landed on my feet despite them thinking the opposite would happen.

Yes, there weren’t a lot of us around, but that was partially why I’d wanted this area. We were good enough. Our money was just as green. It was a petty status thing for me to prove to the naysayers. To my parents . . .

Either way, it was our home. And I loved it. Though she apparently hadn’t wanted it.

“Did you really not want to buy this place?”

Courtney briefly stopped her actions, then finished rinsing the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. She washed her hands before finally turning to face me as she dried them. She took a deep inhale as she tossed the paper towel into the trash then rested back against the countertop, crossing her arms. “I think we could have found something similar for half the price closer to the city.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing that “city” was code for “arena.” “We looked. I didn’t like any of them.”

She laughed quietly. “I know, Sash, I know. You’ve never gone for the more economical choice.”

Her attention went to the dining room table. The large, eight-person, live-edge dining table I’d just had to have. Four thousand dollars on a table because I refused any compromise she brought up to buy something similar. Something cheaper. It was a gorgeous piece. A one-of-a-kind showstopper.

That’s how it went with us. I’d want something. She’d fight me on it, but then ultimately cave, except—“Why is the only thing you refused to give in on is me travelin’ with you?”

“Because there has to be at least one battle I can win.”

“Is that how you see things with us? As battles to win or lose?” I liked getting my way, but for some reason hearing her say it like that . . . I don’t know, it bothered me.

Courtney pushed off the counter, heading to the fridge. “Not really. Well, maybe sometimes.”

I turned so that I fully faced her, gripping onto the back of the sofa. “Seriously?”

She opened the door and pulled out a bottle of water. “You want something?”

“Yeah, for my wife to tell me why she feels like dealin’ with me is a battle?”

Courtney arched a brow as she used her hip to close the door. “That is not what I said.”

The exasperation in her tone was a familiar sound. One I’d caused her to make plenty of times before. One I’d heard over the course of the last couple of hours.

I fell back onto the cushions. No fighting. Stop being on the defensive. No more old habits. I glanced over at the table and then around the living room. Every piece of furniture was something I’d wanted . . . that she’d caved on. Of all the things she could stand her ground on, she chose the one thing that left me behind.

“But why that battle?” I asked after she plopped down next to me.

“Because, baby, in the grand scheme of things it seemed like the least important. The games were short-term. A couple days. Not a big deal.” She shrugged as she took a long drink from her bottle of water.

“Are you bullshittin’ me?”