“Oh, I don’t know,” I holler. Heat races across my flesh. “I guess I wouldn’t know a thing about having trouble and walking away, given that I stayed with my abusive husband for fucking fun!”
“So why have a go at me for sticking around if you ‘get it’? Huh?” The rage emanates from him in waves. I need to get out of this room.
“Because you chose your path, Malice. I didn’t ask to be married to a guy who thought his fists were the part of him I loved the most. And I sure as fuck didn’t ask to be taken away from it by a guy who’s no fucking better.”
Malice stands silent while I stride to the door.
“Why didn’t you tell me this at the start?” I ask. “Why now?”
“I didn’t tell you sooner because I wanted you to trust me.”
“Trust you?” I laugh. “How can I trust you when you knowingly lie to me?”
“I didn’t lie.” He growls.
“No,” I seethe. “You chose not to tell me the most important part about you.”
• • • • •
WE GO our separate ways after the discussion. Malice walked out of the house, and didn’t return until after I had gone to bed that night. I can honestly say we haven’t spent more than two hours collectively in the same room since.
I don’t know what to say. Part of me wants to forgive him, to understand, but the other argues that I’ve been a pushover for too long, and now it’s time to stand up for what’s best for me.
Tigger’s family arrives three days after his death. They stay with Ty, and we’re introduced briefly when the boys gather at the house to arrange the details of the funeral. The guys help pick his favorite songs, and share stories—good ones—with his mother, and sister.
I watch from a distance, not comfortable with impeding on such an intimate moment. After all, I met Tigger twice, and the second time wasn’t all that pleasant. They’re at the tense part of the arrangements, organizing where he will be buried, when I decide to take Rocco for a walk. Tigger’s mother wants him buried with her family, while his sister argues that he should be laid to rest next to their father.
I reach for the door handle, when a hand on my shoulder stills me. “Where are you going?”
I turn, and look into a lost soul. His eyes hold no life, no humor—nothing of the guy who teased me when I walked up and down his driveway the day after he took Rocco.
“I’m going out for a walk. Thought you guys could do with the privacy. I’m sure they don’t like having a spectator the whole time.”
“The roads around here aren’t safe,” he says. “Take the pick-up, and find a park or something.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Malice simply shakes his head, and walks away. He returns a short time later with the keys.
“I trust you won’t scratch it?” His lips quirk up on one side, and I glimpse the man I met so many weeks ago now.
“I’ll take care of her.” I smile. “Does she have a name?” I need to see him smile so badly. The tension between us has been leaving me nauseous at the end of every day we leave things unresolved.
“Not yet,” he replies. His large hand finds mine, and he places the keys in my palm. “Be back in three hours tops, okay?”
I’m lost as to what it would matter how long I’m gone, but I nod, and turn for the door. He closes it behind me, and I stand for a moment to let this whole scenario sink in.
When did my life become so complicated?
***
Rocco bounds around the parkland, chasing after smaller dogs, and making a few bigger friends as well. I sit on the tailgate of the pick-up with a frozen yoghurt and paper to search out jobs, and rental listings. The past week has been hard, to say the least, and I need room to breathe; room to think about what I’m going to do with my future now that it’s mine to plan.
I smile as Rocco tumbles over the grass after taking a corner too fast. The ball of fluff is having the most fun he’s had in a while.
“Excuse me?”
I turn toward the voice, and see a woman approach with her daughter.
“Could I ask where you bought that?” She points to my yoghurt.
“Of course.” I smile. “There’s a shop on Sixth, two blocks down.”
She grins, and nods her head. “Thank you. We’re new around here, and not familiar with where everything is yet.”
I smile as she walks away, and turn back to find Rocco. The sun is glorious on my face, and I close my eyes briefly, inhaling the scent of trimmed grass, flowers in bloom—all the pretty things in the world.
If only I could shut my eyes to the issues in my life, and smell the good things like this more often.