Chapter Five

Nadia

WHEN THE GIRLS WERE asleep, I found myself standing in the garage staring at the shelves holding our luggage. With a glass of white wine in one hand, I used my free one to grab my cell phone from the front pocket of my jeans.

Past midnight.

Tapping the screen, I brought up my Spotify app and turned on Mumford & Sons before I set my wine glass down on the hood of the minivan and took a stepped closer to the shelves in front of me.

It was past midnight.

He knew we had things to talk about. He knew there was something glaringly wrong between us, and it was going on a quarter after the start of a whole new day and he was still not home. As I stared at my call log, his peppy assistant’s phone call on my list irritated me. Jealousy swam in my belly, creating something ugly I hated feeling. My free hand covered the roundness. I’d been joking with Simone about the mommy makeover, but the thought had drifted back into my head, so I had called one of Owen’s friends’ offices for a consultation before picking the girls up from school.

Luckily, his receptionist told me he didn’t have any openings for another two weeks. I’d felt like an idiot the moment I’d hung up. I’d cancel the consultation first thing in the morning, and no one would be the wiser. Though Owen’s comments about me not being able to afford to eat crappy food didn’t settle well. It wasn’t the first time he had said something insensitive, but there was no way I would go under the knife. Not for him, not for anyone. If he didn’t find me attractive after all this time, he could jump off a bridge.

I stepped forward and grabbed the luggage the girls and I would need this summer. Forty minutes later, my bags were packed, settled in the trunk of the minivan. I would get the girls’ things ready while they were at school.

Those were the last thoughts that swam through my mind as I drifted off to sleep in bed. Alone.

***

My eyes opened and I blinked, feeling slightly confused. Owen’s face was in front of mine. Darkness surrounded us, and for a split second, I thought I was dreaming.

“Hi,” his voice rumbled, and I realized his hand was on my bare shoulder. Has he woken me up?

“Hmm,” I sighed, my hands beneath my cheek as I drowsily stared at him. My mind was still foggy when I spoke without thinking, “Why are you so hot?” My voice was soft from sleep.

“You think I’m still hot?” he asked. His eyes lingered on my lips, and all I could think about was how much I wanted him to kiss me. But why was he home so late? The question woke me up, breaking the intimate bubble we had found ourselves in.

“What time is it?” I cleared my throat and sat up in bed.

“Ten till two.”

“Everything okay?” I asked, studying his face.

“Yeah. I had a patient who had a bad reaction to the anesthesia, and then I knocked out in my office.” Is that the truth? Would I be able to tell if he were lying?

“Oh.”

“Hey, Paul mentioned you called his office.” I blinked the last cobwebs of sleep away.

“Yeah.” I shrugged. Suddenly thirsty and needing some space from him, I slipped out of bed, throwing on my old robe.

“That thing needs to be replaced,” he reminded me like he always did when he saw me wearing it.

“I love this thing,” I reminded him, glancing over my shoulder. He had given me the now grungy robe. I double glanced at the clock. Almost two. Why would a married man get home so damn late? How could he just fall asleep in his office? It was one thing when he was going through his residency, but now? And the better question, was anyone with him in his office?

“Why do you want to see Paul?” he asked, and I felt the walls start to build up between us.

“It was stupid,” I mumbled from the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror.

“He said he can see you Friday morning if you want.” I couldn’t read the tone in his voice, but then again, what was new?

“I was just...” The words stuck in my throat when I caught a glimpse of him. He sat shirtless, the top button of his slacks undone, on my reading chair, a chair I doubted he’d ever sat on.

He looked good there.

Though, he always looked good to me. Chugging down the tap water from my glass, I licked my lips. God, I was horny. Looking at him usually turned me on, but tonight, him sitting there, did something to me. “I just wanted to see what he thought.” I shrugged, trying to ignore the desire I felt for him.

“About?” he pressed, and I felt frustrated. Annoyance prickled at the base of my neck.

“About well...you know…” My voice drifted off. Did he really want me to point out all my faults? Was it so he could say ‘I told you so?’

“No. I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you. You know his specialty is—”

“I know.” Paul was a genius at breasts. He had done a fantastic job on Simone’s, and in a moment of weakness I had wondered if he would be able to fix mine as well. “I was talking to Simone today, and I just…” I turned and didn’t look at him. My hand sat over the soft roundness of my belly. “I just wanted to see if he thought he could umm…. fix me.” I closed my eyes and braced for the ‘I told you so’ I knew was inevitable.

“Fix you?” he whispered. “What the fuck?” he growled. The sound made me turn. I didn’t miss the way he flinched when our eyes connected. If he didn’t like what he saw staring back at him, well, too bad.

“You know, just a perk up and suck in stuff….” I tried to joke with him, but I didn’t miss the way his jaw twitched. If I wasn’t so tired and just done, I would have laughed. I knew that look. “I know what you are going to say.” I sighed, running my fingers through my messy hair. “It’s expensive.”

Owen

She thought he would have a problem with how much money it would cost? They had more than enough. They were very comfortable. He worked his ass off to be that way.

“But I have a little set aside,” she continued. He sat straighter on the chair.

“Set aside?” He felt his jaw clench and his teeth grit together.

“You know, a rainy-day fund?” Rainy-day fund?

“And it’s raining?”

“It’s just a consultation, Owen. You more than anyone know half of the consultations don’t even go through with it.” She turned away, obviously pissed; he was pissed as well.

“Why do you have to have a—”

She turned to face him. The tears at her eyes made him swallow his words whole.

“The girls are asleep and tomorrow is Thursday. The day before the last day of school,” she spoke softly, and he knew she was trying to keep her cool and not lose it.

“Nadia—”

“I’m tired.” Her voice had that tone again, and he winced. “I was going to cancel the consultation. It was just a call, on a whim. It was stupid, okay? So stop worrying about the money—”

“I don’t give a shit about the money.” He stood from the comfortable chair. He watched, utterly surprised as she slipped back into bed like they weren’t in the middle of a conversation.

“I have a lot of laundry and packing to do tomorrow, Owen. I gotta—”

“What?” He frowned.

“We are going up to the house in Santa Barbara this weekend,” she reminded him. Like he needed the reminder.

“Nadia—” He stopped dead in his tracks because she had a look on her face that shouted to stay back.

“No,” she said confidently, a glimmer of the take-no-prisoners girl he fell in love with shining through. “Don’t. Don’t stand there and get judgmental on me. Do you know what you do? What you say? You must know words can hurt, Owen.” Words? What words? “And you have the balls to stand there and act shocked when all I did was set up a consultation to fix what you’ve pointed out I need work on?” she snapped. He felt his eyes widen.

“What do I do or say?” he asked, feeling clueless.

“Simone’s right,” Nadia spoke to herself. He frowned wondering what the hell crazy Simone was right about that would cause Nadia to not even look at him. She just leaned over and turned off her bedside light.

“Babe—” he started to argue. They weren’t done talking, but he saw her shadowed head shake.

“It’s late,” she said in that damn defeated tone before closing her eyes. He slipped into bed next to her, but they didn’t touch.

Everything in his body was yelling at him to touch her. To pull her in his arms, kiss her senseless until she finally broke and talked to him.

Shifting in bed with her back to him, he spoke into the darkness, “Babe—”

“I was only thinking about it,” she shared softly with him, that fucking tone still in her voice. Fuck, he hated it. The defeat. Taking his silence in, she kept sharing, “I chose Paul because he’s as good as you. You can’t do it, since you’re my husband—”

“Nadia—”

“He’s a good doctor.”

“He is; it’s not his skill I’m worried about.”

“The moment I hung up with Carol, I knew I shouldn’t have called. I was just curious. I just… I wanted to know—”

“What do I do?” he cut her off. A deafening silence fell between them until she turned around, her eyes a mystery to him.

“What?”

“You said I do or say shit, baby. I never meant to—”

“It doesn’t matter,” she cut him off. Taking in her weary stare, he couldn’t not touch her. Remind her of how beautiful she was to him.

He caressed her face. “It does,” he pressed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like something was wrong with your body, but if I have…” She shook him off and looked over his shoulder.

“Come on, Owen. Let’s be honest. For one freaking minute at least. Alright? We both know my body didn’t bounce back after the girls.”

“I love your—”

“Really?” she asked, the tone of her voice rising, a flare in her eyes starting to simmer.

“I do,” he responded adamantly, and she rolled her eyes.

“Is that why you always tell me about the stuff I shouldn’t eat? Or how I should spend more time at the gym?”

“Baby—”

“No.” She shook her head. “You wanted to have this discussion, and this time, I’m not going to sugarcoat things for you.” She sat up in bed, turning the light on her nightstand back on.

“I don’t need you to.”

“That’s great, Owen!” she sarcastically said. “You make perfection out of silicone. Every. Single. Damn. Day! Perfect boobs, perky asses, and flat stomachs.”

“Nadia, baby, listen to me. You are perfect.“

“I’m not,” she snapped, her cheeks pink, her eyes glassy. “I’m so far from perfect it’s ridiculous. But that’s okay.” When tears bubbled up to her eyes, his heart fucking hurt. “I’m okay with that. I don’t want to be.”

“Babe—”

“You should go to sleep in the guest room,” she blurted out, making his body freeze.

“What?” He frowned. They hadn’t slept a night apart while being under the same roof since never.

“Sleep in the guest room. I can’t…” She sniffled and looked away from him. “Why did you come home this late?” she asked, her eyes pinned to the rug under their bed. She wouldn’t even look at him.

“I told you. I fell asleep waiting to see about—”

“There are other doctors on call. Nurses who watch over your post-op patients.”

“Nadia.”

“Was Monique there tonight?” she asked, twisting her head to look at him, and he squinted.

“What?” He suddenly felt uncomfortable. Not that he had planned on keeping the fact his assistant had gone nuts and quit. It just wasn’t the way he’d wanted to talk to her about it.

“You heard me,” she whispered in an eerily calm tone.

“No. No, she wasn’t. She left the office about thirty minutes after I got to the hospital,” he answered her honestly, and her eyes jumped to his.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, sitting up, letting both his hands grab hers; he was thankful that she let him hold her. “I love you, Nadia. I’ve loved you from the first time I looked at you.”

“I know that.”

“Then what is this about? Going to Santa Barbara outta nowhere?”

“Is it really out of nowhere, though?” she scoffed, and he pressed his lips together.

“Nadi—”

“You don’t see me, Owen.”

“I do.” He did. Don’t I?

“You don’t,” she stressed, and he felt bile rush up his throat. Fuck. How the hell had they got here? “I just think some time apart will help us open our eyes a little. Help us to—”

“You mean open my eyes. Right?” he asked. He knew he sounded like an asshole, but he couldn’t help himself.

“No. I mean our eyes,” she clarified, and he stared at her. His heart raced in his chest. He couldn’t shake off the bad feeling he had. He was losing her. He was losing the love of his life, his family, and there was nothing he could do to fix it. He was helpless to it. “I’m lost, Owen,” she whispered, which made him frown.

“What?” he spoke without thinking. Everything felt wrong. Everything he had worked for was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand, and nothing made sense.

“The girls are older now and you’re settled with your career. We’re settled in our lives here.” He would have thought those were all positives. “I need to do something more than be at home with them.”

“You mean go back to work?” he asked, looking twice at her.

“Maybe.” She shrugged and sighed as frustration built inside of him. “I don’t know.”

“Who would take care of the house?” he stupidly asked, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth. Unfortunately, he was too overwhelmed by the day and the moment to take them back. He let go of her hand.

“Is that what you think I do?” she asked. She had a stunned look on her face, as if he had slapped her. He could see the pain he had callously caused. But being him, he kept finding a way to fuck things up further.

“Babe, I work crazy hours. If you go back to work, we’ll need a nanny, a housekeeper.”

“A lot of people—”

“And if we are being honest here, isn’t it what you do?” Fuck. He hadn’t just put his foot in his mouth, he’d stepped in a pile of shit he knew he couldn’t get himself out of.

“Stop talking,” she snapped. “Stop right there. Don’t say anything else. Whatever the hell you are going to say is probably going to be shit,” she warned, standing up. She grabbed her favorite pillow from her side of the bed. “I love you enough to tell you that this is not the time for us to talk about this. We are both tired—”

“I agree,” he huffed, thinking about what the cost would be of a nanny and a housekeeper. Numbers added up in his head. “Why do you have to do this?” he asked unintentionally. “This is my time to take care of you,” he pointed out.

“What?” She stilled. He could feel her eyes on him, but now it was him who couldn’t get himself to look at her.

“You worked your ass off so that I could go to school and we could live comfortably while I finished up. All so I wouldn’t have student loans coming out of my ears when I finished.”

“Our ears,” she whispered, and if he were paying attention, he would have seen the pain he caused with his words, but he wasn’t.

“Right. Whatever. Look…” He was drowning in panic and fear. “Do you think we don’t make enough? Is that—”

“No. And if you really listened and saw me, you would know that,” she said in that fucking tone. He wanted to rip his damn hair out.

“Na—”

“I can’t do this right now.”

“Do what?” he asked, looking at her.

“This.” She pointed back and forth between them.

“Then, when?”

“When you can make time, I guess, but not right now. Right now, I love you, Owen, but I don’t like you a whole lot.” She left him stunned.

Speechless for the first time in his life.

Just like that, with those last words, she stepped out of their bedroom, the one they had shared for years. She silently closed the door behind her. He could hear her faint footsteps leading down the staircase and the soft creak of the guest room door opening and closing.

Falling back into their bed, his hands at his temples, he wanted to scream. He wanted to hit something. Anything that would take away the consuming fear that he was losing everything that meant a damn in his life.