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PROLOGUE
Dakota
“Hey, baby. Where are my bags?”
At the sound of my husband’s endearment and the question that followed, it might have seemed like a typical conversation between a married couple.
It was anything but, and I knew that once I answered his question, things were going to take a quick turn.
I glanced up from the stove, where I was preparing my dinner in the kitchen, and looked his way. “I don’t know, Tom. Where did you put them?”
Tom shot me a confused look. “I put them in the back of the closet after Thanksgiving. I haven’t touched them since.”
I shrugged, indicating my indifference. “Then I imagine that’s where they’ll still be.”
Disbelief washed over him. “What do you mean? Why didn’t you pack them?”
My attention was pulled to the food in front of me. I picked up the wooden spoon, tossed the vegetables around the wok, and braced myself. Everything was going precisely as I had expected it would, and I knew that this was the moment Tom and I would wind up in an argument.
“Why would I pack them?” I countered when I looked up from the stove again.
Almost immediately, Tom threw his arm out to the side and said, “I’m leaving today to go to Cheyenne. Don’t tell me you forgot.”
Was he crazy?
“I did not forget,” I assured him, the sarcasm dripping from my words.
Tom let out a frustrated sigh. “Are you serious? Are we going to do this again?”
My brows shot up. “Do what exactly?”
In the next instant, I watched as my husband of just over two years allowed disgust to mar his expression. “We already discussed this, Dakota. I don’t understand why you’re punishing me.”
Yep.
This wasn’t going to go anywhere good. And since I was hungry and wanted to eat my dinner without it being ruined, I turned off the stove and prepared for what I was certain wasn’t going to be a quick argument.
“You know what I find sad, Tom?” I started as I moved away from the stove and toward the island that he was standing on the opposite side of. “I find it sad that you’re leaving today to spend the next two and a half weeks with your family for the Christmas holiday, a gathering your wife wasn’t invited to, and the only thing you can manage to be upset about is the fact that I haven’t packed your bags.”
Yes, that was right.
Tom and I had only been married for just over two years, and he was making me spend our second Christmas as a married couple alone.
“Thanksgiving didn’t go well,” he reasoned, his voice a bit hushed.
“Not because I didn’t try,” I argued. “I’ve been trying, Tom. I’ve been doing it for years, and they don’t put in any effort. Do you not understand how difficult it has been for me to go above and beyond to be kind to people who despise me? Do you even care?”
His shoulders fell, and he moved in my direction. “It’s not been easy for anyone,” he said as he came to a stop beside me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t going to be forever. It’s just until they get to know you better, until they know you the way I do.”
I jerked my shoulder away from him and took a step back. “How would that ever happen if they constantly alienate me? God, it’s bad enough I have to constantly hear them talk about Aurora every time I’m there, but to not even invite me for Christmas is a whole new level of low.”
“There’s nothing between Aurora and me. You know I love you,” Tom insisted. “It’s just that my parents have known Aurora’s family for years. Our breakup was hard on everyone.”
Anger and hurt moved through me.
I’d given this man four and a half years of my life, and all he could do was stand here and make excuses for the people who hated me.
“You don’t get it,” I rasped, the tears welling in my eyes despite how desperately I wanted to keep them at bay.
