Written in the Scars(50)
It’s not fine. That much is clear. But I don’t know why.
I make a taco and take a bite, relishing in the taste of home-cooked food. “I heard from Murphy,” I tell her, breaking the silence. “He said the word is the mine will be opening back up soon.”
“You aren’t seriously considering going back to work there.” Her eyes are wide, the fork in her hand falling slowly to the table.
“What else am I supposed to do?”
“Apply at the power plant, the electric company. Go back to school and teach,” she says hurriedly.
“I’ve applied to all of those places. The plant has two slots open and ninety-four candidates. I have to be realistic.”
Reaching across the table, I place my hand on top of hers. She stares at them, her chest rising and falling.
“You can’t go back there,” she chokes out.
Her words spear my heart. She cares. I knew she did, but to hear it encourages me. Somewhere through her anger, despite her filing for divorce, she still wants me. And maybe, just maybe, it’s not buried as deep as I feared.
“Baby, listen to me. There’s no other option to make that kind of money.”
“Life’s not about money.”
“No, but there are bills to pay.” I swallow hard. “And we have a lot less money because of me. I have to be able to give you a decent life, and the best way for me to do that right now is the mine. If something else opens, fuck yeah, I’ll take it. But we have to be real, E.”
I watch her beautiful face crease with worry, and while I secretly love it, I don’t want to waste our night talking about work.
“They’ve not officially reopened anyway,” I point out, “so this is a discussion for another day. Let’s talk about the puppy.”
She smiles. “No puppies.”
“Kittens?”
“Their pee stinks.”
“All right,” I sigh, shoving away from the table. “Babies it is.”
Standing abruptly, she swipes her plate from the table and dumps it in the trash. “I need to grade those papers.”
“Want me to help?”
She spins on her heels and gives me a look.
“No, really,” I say. “Do you want my help? I have nothing better to do and I can put them in stacks or something?”
A faint smile tickles her lips, but she fights it back.
Pushing to my feet, I start her way. Much to my surprise, she doesn’t back away or stop me. Not to press my luck, I stop inches from her.
I don’t want to leave. I want to pick her up and carry her into our bedroom and show her how much I love her. Brushing a lock of hair out of her face, I touch her for a moment longer than necessary because I need it. I think she does too—maybe more than me.
“You really want me to leave?”
Her nod is almost nonexistent.
I swallow back all the words I really want to say. “I’ll go. But I don’t want to.”
“I need you to,” she whispers, holding on to my wrist.
Her words and actions are at odds and it rips me apart.
“Why?” I ask. “Elin, something’s going on with you and I want to know what it is.”
“You know what it is,” she says, but it’s not what she means. I can see the other reason, something darker, right behind her green eyes.
“Yet you’re asking me to leave you again.”
Her gaze hits the floor. I lift her chin so she’s looking at me.
“Tell me what’s wrong. What are you hiding in there?”
She drags in a long, deep breath that shakes her chest. Her eyes grow wide, her hand clamping on my wrist. “I . . .”
My phone rings in my pocket, and the sound shakes her out of the moment.
“You should get that,” she says, clearing her throat. She releases my wrist and steps away from my touch.
Growling, I pull the offender from my pocket and see Jiggs’ name. “It’s your brother.”
“Go,” she says, grabbing her bag off the floor beside the table. Her voice is clear now, the moment of truth far behind us. “I need to get to this anyway.”
“You sure you don’t wanna talk?”
With the bag on her shoulder, she turns on her heel. A look of resolution is stretched across her face. “I’m sure.”
It’s clear I’m not going to get anywhere now, just dig myself in a deeper hole. I head for the door but stop beside her.
Not giving her a chance to object, I slide her against me and press a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you. This bullshit is gonna stop soon, one way or the other. My patience is running thin. So figure out how you’re gonna deal when I come home for good because it’s happening.”