I was going to have. Sean and Carson are long gone, taking their surfing careers around the world.
That was meant to be me.
I try not to live with regret, but I do.
I fucking hate my life, and what makes it worse is that it was my choice to marry Isla and be a better man than my father, to wash away the sins of my mother, but in doing that, I’ve darkened my soul to a point I’m not sure I’ll ever return from.
“You’re working again?” Isla asks, crossing her arms.
“Someone has to.”
I grab my keys and phone.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Bohdi?”
I’m not in the mood for yet another fight, so I don’t answer her.
“I’m speaking to you,” she says, narrowing her eyes.
“I’m not going to fight with you, Isla. I’m done fighting.”
“Then why are you here?”
I look to her. “Because you’re my fucking wife.”
“You hate me so much, I don’t understand why you bother.”
I exhale, angrily. “I don’t fuckin’ hate you, but it would be nice to have some help around here. You’re always out, I do fucking everything. I’m workin’ two jobs, trying to keep us afloat while you galivant around town. Why don’t you look at getting a job, too?”
She stares at me, horrified. “You know about my health problems after losing our baby. I have never been the same since, and you’re asking me to do something that causes me pain.”
“You’re healed. You’re recovered.”
She is. Her mind fucking isn’t, though. She was never the same, and I get it, fuck, do I get it, but she is putting her entire life on hold obsessing over getting pregnant again. The only time she comes near me is when she’s ovulating. I can’t remember the last time we had sex and it actually meant a single fucking thing.
“I’m struggling, why can’t you see that? I can’t get pregnant, I’m suffering, Bohdi.”
I’m not going to argue with her. I can’t be bothered. “I’m going to work.”
“Why do you do this to me?” she cries as I walk out the door. “Why do you treat me like this?”
Anger bubbles in my chest, and I spin around. “How the fuck do I treat you, Isla? I fucking do everything for you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d have none of this. I let you live this free fucking life, and I don’t get a god damned thing in return. Go fuck yourself.”
I turn and storm out.
I shouldn’t have spoken to her like that, I know it, but I don’t fucking care.
I’m so done with caring about someone who couldn’t give a crap about me in return.
Maybe we should get a divorce, but if we do that now, I’m going to lose everything.
That shack, it’s the only thing I have left.
Literally the only fucking thing.
Without it, I’m left with nothing.
I’m not letting her take everything from me.
No fucking way.
“I’M PREGNANT,” ISLA says, walking into the kitchen, white stick in hand.
I look up from my bowl of spaghetti, and my heart jumps into my throat. What did she just fucking say? Pregnant?
No.
Sure we’ve been trying, but we’ve been trying for over three fucking years and, quite honestly, I thought it was never going to happen. I do want a family, but I’m not sure we’re in a position to be giving children the life they deserve. I can barely afford to feed us.
“What?” I ask, swallowing the thick lump in my throat.
“I’m pregnant. Look.”
She hands me the test, a clear plus sign on the screen.
She’s pregnant.
Fuck.
“When did this happen?” I ask, my voice tight.
“I missed my period, and thought I’d test. I can’t believe it, I’m so happy. Are you happy, Bohdi? This is what we’ve wanted.”
This is what she has wanted.
Nobody ever asks me what I want.
“It is what it is, doesn’t matter what I want.”
Her face drops.
“That’s it? That’s your reaction? I’m giving you a child and that’s how you treat me?”
“It’s great,” I lie. “I’m happy.”
“You’re a liar!” she screeches, picking up the television remote and tossing it at me. “All I do is listen to your lies. If you don’t want to be here, Bohdi, then why are you?”
Fucks me.
I close my eyes and listen to her rant and rave, until finally she gets angry enough to storm out the door, slamming it on her way. Memories of my mother doing the same thing flood my mind, and I think about tossing her body over that boat, in the dead of the night, after I killed her.
The thought