I woke up with a pounding headache and a violent urge for bacon, eggs, and hash browns.

Food would have to wait for aspirin to kick in though.

With a groan, I rolled to the side and saw the time.

Of course.

The kids were going to be late for school.

But that seemed slightly less important when I noticed that Rob’s side of the bed was untouched. For all the years we’d been married, the only times he hadn’t slept by my side were when he’d been on a night shift.

I guess that wasn’t the case any longer.

Forcing my eyes from the neatly made half of the bed, from the pillow that was undented, I hustled into the closet.

No time for emotions and regrets.

My kids needed to get to school.

I brushed my teeth, threw my hair into a ponytail, and grabbed the first set of clothes my hands touched.

Three minutes for me being somewhat presentable to the rest of humanity might be a record.

I poked my head into the kids’ bedrooms and, finding them empty, rushed down the stairs, hopping over the creaking step, and skidding to a halt in the kitchen.

My sister was there, helping Allie into her backpack. Max was sitting on the floor, already wearing his, and playing with Abby.

Kelly glanced up and smiled. “After yesterday, I figured you might need relief this morning.” She straightened the pack on Allie’s shoulders. “Now you just turn around and go enjoy a nice long shower. I’m taking the kids to school. Dr. Johnson called your cell earlier and said Rocco would be ready to come home around noon.”

My eyes flashed to the counter, and I saw my phone there. I guess I’d been so out of it the night before I hadn’t brought it upstairs.

“Rocco!” Max yelled, making Abby laugh.

I smiled.

“I’ve got these guys today,” my sister said. “You take care of getting the fluffball settled.”

The tension in my gut eased. “You’re a goddess.”

Kel bowed. “I know. Go get in the car, munchkins,” she said to the kids, raising her key fob and pressing a button. We watched through the kitchen window as the two doors to her minivan slid open. “Never thought I’d say it, but minivans rock.” A grin. “Now, go spend an inordinate time on personal grooming while you have the chance.”

“Breakfast?” I asked as she scooped up Abby.

“Done,” Kel said as Max and Allie sprinted out the front door without a look back.

“Boosters?”

She nodded. “Justin installed them last night.”

I let out a relieved sigh. “Thanks, sissy.”

“Anytime.” She hugged me and went outside.

I waved after she’d settled Abby into her seat, smiling when she pushed a button and the doors closed.

Minivans did rock.

Then I saw Rob’s note propped next to the coffee pot, and my smile slipped away.

Will be at Henry’s if you need me.

I crumpled the paper and jammed it into the overflowing trashcan.

What the hell did that mean?

I grabbed a coffee cup and filled it. Was Rob hanging out for the morning? Is that where he’d spent last night?

Had he left and was staying there permanently?

No. We hadn’t gotten to that point. Right?

Right?

Dammit. I hated this, I thought, bustling around the kitchen as irritation and fear and concern washed through me. I grabbed a package of blackberries and some homemade vanilla yogurt, layering it and the berries into a bowl before topping with a few scoops of granola.

I sat down at the table, spoon in hand but stomach no longer hungry.

There was so much between Rob and I—baggage, barriers, resentment—but we’d always been able to talk things out in the past. Except . . . maybe we’d never really dealt with it all.

I knew I’d done my fair share of ignoring the small stuff that I hadn’t wanted to battle over, and God knew, I was good at boxing up emotions I didn’t want to deal with.

Was this how marriages imploded? Too much compartmentalizing, too much ignoring of the problems and pretending that everything was okay?

No.

That wasn’t us. This was just a rough patch. We’d get through. We always did.

I stood up, setting my bowl in the sink, and turned to head upstairs for a shower. But there was that trash again. The lid sat askew, papers spewing out onto the floor. Reminding me of everything that wasn’t right in my life.

Ugh.

I shoved the garbage down angrily, slammed the top closed. “Couldn’t he have at least taken the flipping trash out before he left?”

Left me.

Left us.

Then tears were in my eyes and dripping down my cheeks. I pretended they didn’t exist as I climbed the stairs. I ignored them as they mingled with the warm water of the shower.

And, fancy that, my eyes were dry by the time my body was.

My heart, on the other hand, was bruised and aching.

“So he’ll need the cast for a few weeks, then we’ll take another X-ray, and if all is good, Rocco will be a free man.” Dr. Johnson smiled as he patted Rocco on the head. “Or dog, rather.”

“In the meantime, I’ve got to keep him calm?” I glanced at Rocco’s tail, already tapping against the floor like a propeller spinning a million miles per hour.

The vet snorted, a lock of his dark brown hair falling forward over his eyes. “Do your best. Most dogs don’t start to perk up for a few days.” He gave a pointed look at the propeller tail and Rocco’s bright eyes. “But I think this one will prove me wrong.”

“He’s got energy,” I agreed.

Dr. Johnson touched my arm. “Speaking of energy, are you okay? You look a little”—he hesitated like he realized he was hovering in dangerous territory—“overwhelmed.”

“I’m fine.”

“Rocco will make a full recovery.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“Any other questions or concerns?”

Silence descended, and I struggled to hold everything inside. I wasn’t the vent-to-strangers type, but there was something about the white coat and doctor’s office setting that made me want to spill my guts.

In the end, old patterns persisted and my guts stayed firmly not spilled.

I thanked the vet, bent to lift Rocco up—

“It’s not your fault,” Dr. Johnson said.

My laugh was brittle. “That’s what everyone keeps saying.”

He raised a brow. “Then it’s probably true.”

“You’re probably right.”

A smile and a flirtatious wink. It would have been overkill on a less attractive man. On Dr. Johnson—young and muscular and sweet—it only added to the general appeal.

When had I started to notice the general appeal of other men?

Right around the time that my husband might have been unfaithful.

Any amusement I felt dried up at that thought. Dr. Johnson must have noticed it because he snagged my keys from the exam table, scooped up Rocco, and headed for the door.

“I’ll get him settled in your car if you want to head to the checkout desk.”

“Thanks,” I said, but he was already out the door.

Well, what was seeing one more male’s back? They were familiar territory these days.

Sighing, I grabbed my purse and left the exam room.

I paid, careful to save the receipt because Bow Wow Patrol was going to reimburse me, and walked outside to my car. Then stopped dead. Rob was standing next to Dr. Johnson, the pair in an intense conversation.

A conversation that abruptly ended when I came over to them.

Rob gave Dr. Johnson a hard look as he patted Rocco on the head. That look transformed into a fierce glare when the vet stopped in front of me and squeezed my hand.

“Hang in there, okay?” Dr. Johnson waited until I tore my eyes from my husband and met his. “And you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.” He handed me a card. “Cell’s on the back.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as he walked away.

My gaze hit the pavement, tracing the cracks as I took a deep breath and prepared to navigate the glacial ice storm that was my husband.

Peace. All I wanted was peace.

I shored up my spine. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“I—I’m sorry about Rocco. It was a horrible accident, but Dr. Johnson says he’ll make a full recovery.”

I paused. Waited.

Nothing.

I bit my lip, pressed on. “So, anyway. I need to get him home so he can rest.” I hesitated a beat, thinking my husband would respond to me. When he didn’t, I went on rambling, “Then I have to pick up Allie and take her to Kelly’s for her riding lessons, and for some reason I agreed to ride with them. Then Max has a playdate with Caleb after school then I’ll pick him up from soccer and . . .”

I ran out of steam.

And got silence back.

Awesome.

Seriously, why did I bother?

I pushed past my husband. A man who, just months before, I would have said that I knew better than myself.

This cold person in front of me was a stranger.

“I’m tired of being shut out,” I muttered, tearing open the passenger door and tossing my purse inside. “I’m tired of feeling like a pathetic puppy that keeps getting kicked. I’m”—I sighed as fatigue flooded through me—“just tired.”

Rob was still standing by the open trunk of my van, but now he was scratching Rocco under the chin.

“You shouldn’t leave him unsupervised with the trunk open,” Rob said. “He already got hurt once on your watch. You need to be more careful.”

“You mean be more careful and supervise when you’re right there?” I asked, slamming the door and walking toward the trunk. “Because by my count you’ve got two eyes and hands, and you’re fully capable of supervising.”

Rob’s stare snapped to mine, but he didn’t apologize.

He didn’t say anything further either. Which, really, at that point, I considered a win.

I shoved between him and the car, checking that Rocco was safely away from the trunk so I could close it.

“What’s this?” Rob asked, fingers plucking into my back pocket.

“What’s what?” I asked, after the lift-gate clicked closed.

“This.”

I turned, saw that he was holding the card Dr. Johnson had handed me. “It’s the vet’s card.” I shrugged. “He’s been very kind and helpful about Rocco.”

Rob snorted. “I bet he has.”

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?

Now, I don’t get mad often. I really don’t. Sure, little things annoy me and pester my thoughts. But I’m the stewing type, not the blow-my-top-like-a-volcano type.

Until I hit the Point.

I’m guessing anyone in the universe could see that I’d hit that Point.

Everyone except my husband.

Because he had the flipping audacity to take a step toward me, pin me between the van and his hard body, and glare down at me.

“What’s between you and the vet?”

I lost it.

“What’s between you and the girl on your phone?” I hissed and shoved at his chest, knocking him back a step. “What’s with you and the lipstick on your collar? What’s with you and not coming home last night?”

I yelled the last at the top of my lungs.

Pulling air through my nose, I tried to drop the volume of my voice. “I don’t know what’s going on with you or work or us, but I do know that the last freaking thing you should be spending any energy on is wondering whether or not there is anything between Dr. Johnson and myself. I don’t even know the man’s first name.”

Rob stared at me for a long moment before throwing the card in my face. “It’s Sam, and it’s right there next to his cell number.”

“Great.” I crumpled the card in my palm and turned away. The door handle was cool beneath my fingers as I yanked it open.

I threw myself into the seat, tossed the card into the cup holder with a plethora of other trash, and tried to close the door. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t go anywhere when I tried to slam it.

“Where are you going?” Rob snapped, his hand holding it open.

“I think I told you that already.” I pulled on the door again. It didn’t budge. Damn strong fingers.

“I’m not done discussing this,” he said.

Ignoring his words and the open door for the time being, I jammed my keys into the ignition and turned on the van. It was a cool day outside, but the interior was getting warm already, so I directed cold air back toward Rocco.

Then I plunked my head on the steering wheel and counted to ten.

When I was done, I lifted my eyes to Rob’s. “Why do you have an extra cell phone with someone named Celeste texting you all the time?”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.

“No words now?” I asked. “Or no explanation as to why I’m getting butt dials and overhearing you say I don’t matter? That only our kids do?”

“Melissa, it’s—”

Hope bubbled up inside me.

“Is this something with work?” I asked desperately when he hesitated. “Something you can’t discuss? Something that isn’t about us?”

Please let that be the case.

“You don’t have to confirm or deny it,” I said, knowing that my words were rushing together as I grasped at any explanation for why my marriage was exploding. “Just wink or something. Or—I’ve got it! A code word. Marshmallow. Or banana. How about banana?”

Rob shook his head. “It’s not work.”

Those pretty little bubbles of positivity disintegrated. A giant boulder dropped straight onto my gut.

I was going to be sick.

“It’s not work?” I repeated dumbly.

“No.”

Breathe. In. Out. Don’t lose it. “I need to get Allie from school.”

“Okay.” He dropped his hand from the door, turned away from me.

“Rob?”

He stopped, turned back.

“Don’t come home tonight.”