“Babe! I’m home.” I set my car keys and briefcase down on the circular glass table in the foyer and hear the music from the TV playing in the living room.

When I walk into the living room, there are empty plates and bowls on the coffee table, some clothes on the couch, and baskets of laundry piled against the wall.

Dawson's on the floor sleeping with a box of crackers and his cup with juice next to the box. Quickly, I pick up Dawson and he instantly buries his face into my check.

What the fuck happened while I was at work?

When I go into his room, I place Dawson in bed and bring the light cover over him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Daddy," he mumbles. "Love you."

"I love you too."

As tired as I am from a ten-hour workday in the office and the impending argument with Jennifer, I let that shit go and enjoy this moment with my son, watching him sleep.

Being the CFO of a high-ranking financial company puts me under stress I can’t let go. Luckily, I work for my parents, so the hours are flexible and manageable. In the next few years, my parents will be retiring and giving the company to me and my cousin, Remy.

Leaving his room, I walk into our bedroom and see Jennifer passed out on top of our bed in a sports bra and booty shorts.

“Babe.” I do my best to control my temper.

How the fuck is she upstairs, sleeping, while our son was downstairs, unsupervised?

She doesn’t like the idea of a nanny in the house or hiring any help because she constantly tells me she can do it herself and doesn’t need me to be tempted by someone younger and hotter. Nearly every day, I reassure her that I love her and only her. I’d never do anything to jeopardize my family and hurt them.

Jennifer gave up her career as a fashion designer when she got pregnant with Dawson. Throughout the entire pregnancy, she was happy and glowed. She’d wake up every morning with energy and positivity. We rarely argued, and her pregnancy wasn’t complicated. Those were the best nine months of our lives.

When Dawson was born, Jennifer and I were happy and complete. Dawson was an easy baby. He slept through the night, and was rarely fussy. After he turned two months, Jennifer slowly changed. She’d sleep more and refused to hold Dawson. I wasn’t sure how to handle her moods or what to do until I went to one of her checkups with her OB-GYN and listened to her lie about how she’d been. Stepping in, I told her doctor the truth, and he suggested Jennifer talk to a therapist. That lasted for about a week, and when Dawson turned seven months, a new side of Jennifer came and stayed.

“Babe.” I shake her a little.

She swats my hand away. “Leave me alone, Drew. My trainer kicked my ass today.”

“Your trainer? Did you leave to go to the gym?”

“Yeah. There’s a daycare center at my gym, so I left Dawson there and worked out. You hired a trainer for me, asshole.”

I rub my tired face. It’s the same argument again and again.

“Jennifer, you asked for one,” I remind her.

“And you were supposed to tell me I didn’t need one and that I looked fucking beautiful.”

“I do! All the time!”

She laughs, shaking her head, and pulls herself up into a sitting position. “Whatever. I saw the new girl your mother hired. Brianna? Ha. I guess you want them young and stretch-mark free, don’t you?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I love you, babe. You’re the one for me.” I rub my hands over her arms and cup her face. “Why don’t we go out tonight, and I’ll take Dawson to my parents’? They won’t mind.”

She narrows her eyes. “You know how strict my diet is, and you want to take me out? Are you insane? Are you trying to sabotage my health? I’m finally where I want to be. I’m skinny! I wasn’t even this small in high school. Oh my God. You’re trying to fatten me up!”

“Wh-what?” I’m fucking lost. “I want to spend time with my gorgeous wife and take her out because I know she’s been under a lot of stress.”

Before she can answer, Dawson cries for me, and I quickly go to him.

He's sitting upright on his bed, holding out his arms, and mumbling daddy. As soon as he's in my arms, he's back to sleep and I walk around his bedroom, rocking him in my arms, and softly singing a lullaby. After a few minutes, light snores fill the room and I gently place him back in bed.

When I go back to the bedroom, Jennifer’s out of bed and putting on her sneakers.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the gym. My husband doesn’t love how I look. Don’t worry though; I’ll work my ass off, and you’ll love me again.”

“What?” I ask in confusion.

“When was the last time we had sex?”

I close my eyes and slowly count to five. “Two nights ago.”

“It’s not enough. Do you know how many guys would love to fuck me two or three times a day?”

“I work ten-hour days, and I want to spend time with you and Dawson. Sometimes, you push me away, not wanting to have sex because you’re too sore. I love you. All of you. Having sex with you is amazing. Being with you is amazing.”

She rolls her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “Whatever. I’ll see you later.”

I let her walk away and go to Dawson’s room to spend more time with him.

As much as it pains me to watch her walk away, Dawson needs me, too. She can throw her temper tantrum, and when she comes home, I’ll make sure to let her know how much I love her. For now, I’m pushing away the fight with Jennifer and focusing on Dawson.