it wasn’t going to be nearly enough to keep them from losing it.
He didn’t say anything about that though, picking something neutral. “It’s been a good year for corn.”
If she wasn’t staying, if she didn’t care about him, he wasn’t going to confess his desperate financial situation to her.
Why should he make himself vulnerable when she was leaving?
“I told Houston I would talk to you about maybe the boys being able to be together at our houses for a while, two months maybe? Or maybe even just spending the whole six months together. Half the year at your house, half at mine.”
“No. I don’t want to do that. I thought about it, and it won’t work for me.” Her words were snippy and short, like there was no room for argument or discussion.
It made him want to take the other side and argue against her, but he kept his mouth closed.
Until he couldn’t anymore. “This is a decision that we’ll make together. It’s not just you saying no.”
“We have an agreement. It’s been working. We don’t have to revisit it.”
“Maybe I’m not happy with it anymore. If it’s not working, we talk about it.”
“Why should we change the thing that’s been working for eight years?”
“But it might’ve stopped working now. The boys are getting older. Maybe they want to spend time together.”
“That doesn’t matter. We made a deal, we’re sticking to it. It’s that simple.”
“It’s not that simple. I threw a suggestion out, you’re not gonna just shoot it down, like your opinion is the only one that matters.”
“It feels like we’re going in circles here. There’s no point saying anything more.” She shoved the rest of her sandwich back in the bag and walked to the back of pickup, throwing it in the cooler, before walking off in the direction of the boys.
Why did he get so irritated so fast with her?
He never used to.
He wasn’t a psychologist. He definitely didn’t want to be, but he kinda felt like he got irritated with her so quickly because that was an acceptable emotion. Out of all the emotions that he felt for her, and all the things that ached and ripped in his chest when she was around, that was one he was able to let out.
The attraction that still burned in his heart? Definitely not something he could act on.
The tenderness he felt toward her, when he wanted to take his hands and brush the hair back away from her eyes, was another thing he couldn’t act on. Nor the desire to protect her, to keep her from working too hard, even the possessiveness of seeing her in his shirt, and feeling them together as a family, and that longing to actually provide a stable home and family life for his kids.
The idea of having more children.
Simple times on the farm with lots of love and laughter, and the only person he wanted to do that with was Emerson.
Yeah. None of that was acceptable. The only thing he could show was anger and irritation.
Maybe it is the same for her.
Maybe that little voice had a point this time. Most of the time when he heard that little voice in his head, he wanted to slap his hand across its mouth. But...what if it was right?
Want to see? Why don’t you? Just try and see if I’m right.
There it was again, asking the uncomfortable questions.
He didn’t know what to do anyway. What in the world could he do to see if she actually had feelings for him? Ask her? Like she’d actually admit it.
Reid thought it was better to protect his heart and wait for her to leave. That seemed like the thing that made the most sense. The safest thing.
THEY QUIT AROUND SUPPERTIME when it started to sprinkle.
Emerson appreciated God’s perfect timing. It had been a long time since she’d been out and active all day, in the open air, and she’d forgotten how tired that could make a person who wasn’t used to it.
She was definitely ready to go to the house and sit down. Except, somebody needed to make supper.
Normally—before—that was her job. Back when they were first married. Reid worked outside, and she helped him when she needed to, but he did the outside work, and she did the cooking and cleaning.
After their argument today—a stupid argument that she was totally responsible for because she was just being an idiot—she didn’t want to fight about who was cooking.
She parked the farm truck in the shed where