Author Anonymous_ A True Story - E.K. Blair Page 0,12

toss my dirty clothes in the laundry basket.

“What’s going on?” Landon questions when he walks into the closet.

I throw another wad of clothes into the basket and then straighten myself, planting my hands on my hips. “You couldn’t have tried to clean up before I got home?” My voice is belittling, I know. But I’m tired, hungover, and battling a piercing headache.

“By the time I got the girls to bed, I was drained.”

“You look pretty damn relaxed if you ask me. Here it is, midnight, and you’re chilling in front of the television when you knew I’d be dead to the world when I got home,” I nag, sounding like the acerbic housewife I swore I’d never be. “And now, instead of going to bed, I have to clean that shit up.”

Landon’s face hardens and his words are clipped when he bites back at my sour mood. “I’ll clean it in the morning.”

“I don’t want to wake up to that mess.”

“Then I’ll clean it before you get up. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that this place was clean when I left, and I shouldn’t have to come home to a mess after a long weekend.”

“I wish I had your life, Tor. No, really, I do. It must be rough to have to leave your family for a couple days to party it up in Vegas.”

His pugnacious mood rankles my nerves even more. “I can’t help that my job looks different than yours, but don’t you dare forget that it is indeed a job that affords us the lifestyle we have.” I immediately regret the low blow I just served him, but before I can apologize, he throws the animosity right back at me.

“And who afforded you the luxury to discover this new career of yours? Don’t forget I solely supported this family for years while you stayed at home and didn’t work. I bust my fucking ass for you and the girls,” he snaps. “But you don’t see that because you’re blinded by a few dirty dishes in the goddamn sink.”

“I never said you didn’t bust your ass at work.”

“Dammit, Tori. I’ve been killing myself working all these extra hours. Cut me a little slack.”

We come to a deadlock as we both stand and glare at each other. These spats aren’t out of the norm for us when we are both drained. Landon hates fighting—I do too—but I also think it’s normal for couples who have been together as long as we have to get into arguments. At least that’s what I tell myself: that we are just like everyone else.

“Welcome home, dear. I’m going to bed,” he says listlessly before turning his back to me and walking to the bedroom.

I let go of a heavy sigh wrapped in disappointment. All I wanted was to come home to a clean house and happy husband—you know what I mean, the fantasy we create in our minds, and when it doesn’t go our way, we are left with the disillusionment of reality.

I slip on a pair of pajamas and leave my suitcase lying open in the middle of the closet when I go upstairs to check on the girls. I walk into Emily’s room where she’s wriggled her way down beneath her blanket. I pull it back and give her a kiss on the forehead. My little four-year-old baby is growing so fast. Faster than what I’m ready for. I stroke my fingers through her blonde hair and give her one more kiss.

When I walk into Jill’s room, my big first grader, I sit on the edge of her bed and stare down at my first born. Her face is thinning out of the rounded baby cheeks she once had. My little lady won’t even let me call her my baby anymore. I think back to the day this angel pie made me a mommy for the first time.

“Landon,” I call out from the bathtub where I’ve been soaking for the past hour. “I need help.”

“Coming.”

I’m two days overdue and beyond the point of wanting to die. Every bone and tendon in my body is constantly on fire with pain. I’ve been spending most of my time trying to soothe the aches, but the warm water only attempts to assuage.

“Are you feeling any better?” Landon asks when he walks into the bathroom.

“I feel like it’s getting worse. It’s all through my back.”

He reaches down, and I grab on to him as he helps me to my feet. I wait for