Page 126 of Angel

I lost my appetite.

Pushing my half-eaten plate away, I stood up from the table and scraped the leftovers into the bin.

I loaded the dishwasher and strode out of the kitchen into my studio, suffused with a wave of self-reproach, all the while trying my best to shut out the shock, hurt, and concern on Roxy’s face.

‘Angel, we need to talk.’

I sat at my mixing desk, buried in a complex guitar riff.

I spun my chair around to find Roxy leaning against the timber door jamb.

‘What about?’ I asked, bracing myself.

‘What the heck is going on with you?’

‘Why?’ I countered, my jaw locking.

‘Look, I can’t compel you to be a husband to me, Angel,’ she said, her voice tight. ‘But I also have to share that I’m not comfortable right now.’

‘With what?’ I growled, bracing myself for the storm in her eyes.

‘This texting business,’ she stated, fixing her eyes on mine. ‘Then being with the band most evenings, and jamming late at night, sometimes until dawn. I’m a little concerned.’

She stepped into the room.

‘I’d appreciate it if we could talk and find some ways to bring a little more balance.’

‘Why all the expectations now?’

I was grumpy and exhausted from burning the candle at both ends, running myself ragged trying to make everyone happy, protecting one sister from another.

Along with managing my parents, Six Sinners, and even Reese, it was proving all too much.

Which meant I lacked the mental and emotional bandwidth to take a lecture from my wife at this juncture.

‘There’s passionate, and then there’s obsessive,’ Roxy countered, crossing her arms. ‘It’s important you get some downtime, Angel, a decent amount of it for your own sanity. You seem stressed.’

I stood up, towering over the mixing console as my patience snapped.

‘Roxy, here’s one thing Evangeline was aware of that you need to be across,’ I bit out, throwing out the comparison to her sister impulsively. ‘When you get in a relationship with a musician, late nights, jamming sessions, travel, and disruption are par for the course.’

I paced the floor, my frustration taking the wheel.

‘That means being on the move. Rehearsing all the time and going on tour for multiple months in a row.’

I stopped and faced her.

‘By marrying me, these things come with the territory. You have to decide if you’re okay with that because it’s part of the deal. We can talk about updating our agreement if you want, but manage your expectations, because I don’t appreciate your attempts at micromanaging my schedule.’

I crossed my hands over my chest and raised my chin, meeting her eyes in a cold challenge.

‘The texts, calls, and my decisions are none of your business, Rox. Back off.’

Her face tightened, hardening into stone before she eased away from the threshold.

Then she turned her back to me, her expression broken.

‘Sorry to have bothered you,’ she whispered.