I slip on my robe and follow him into the bathroom, determined to hash this out so we can end this chapter of our relationship and move on to the next. Figure out custody and co-parenting and all the details that come with a separation I hope won’t be messy.
“Caleb, can we talk?” I ask softly.
He’s silent, his broad, tanned back turned away from me, his posture stiff. I touch his shoulder. He flings my hand off. I stumble back from the force of it, and my hip bumps painfully into the sharp edge of the counter.
“Ow.” I wince, squeezing my eyes shut against the brief, blinding pain. “Caleb, God. That hurt.”
I wait for an apology that doesn’t come. His eyes run dispassionately over me, his inspection starting at my bare feet and climbing over every inch until he meets my eyes. There’s a frigid possessiveness there, as if I’m a misbehaving pet he owns but isn’t too fond of. One he needs to make sure gets back in line.
I shiver under that icy stare. I still feel it when he looks away. The cold has set in.
“Hey, we’ve got time.” He tugs me into him, even though he must feel how stiff I am in his arms. “Let’s not talk about marriage again until the season is over. Can you just give me that? I have a string of tough games coming up, and I need to focus.”
Everything in me screams to get this settled, because it’s lingered long enough, but I nod. I can give him that, but he’s never fucking me again. I felt like an object tonight—like he was collecting rent money. It was a transaction between our bodies, one where I got nothing, and he took everything. As I look back over our relationship, I have to wonder.
Has it been that way all along?
12
Iris
“We need to schedule some charitable work for you, Caleb.”
Sylvia, the Stingers’ community outreach coordinator, bites into the beignet I offered her with a cup of coffee.
“These are incredible.” She groans and closes her eyes in what looks like rapture. “Did you make these yourself, Iris?”
“Yeah.” I laugh and wave a finger in front of my mouth. “You have some powder.”
“Oh.” She brushes away the white powder. “Thank you. I didn’t know people actually made these at home.”
“Well, I’m from Louisiana.” I smile, thinking about the time MiMi showed Lo and me how to make them. “It’s one of the few recipes I follow pretty well.”
“I need to leave for tonight’s game in a little bit,” Caleb interjects, a small frown marring his expression. “What are the charitable opportunities?”
Sylvia’s smile dims a little, and so does mine. Caleb has been uncooperative and surly all day. I hoped he would shake the funk for this meeting with Sylvia, but he’s been distracted and abrupt the whole time she’s been here.