Page 29 of For One Night

His stare becomes cold. “You knew what you were getting into before we married, so don’t complain now.”

“And again, you’re right. I did know, still do. I turned my head at every glaring issue we had, still do to this day.”

“Lola, not another word.” His nostrils flare. I know I’m treading water here, but I can’t stop, not this time.

“Or what, Carter?” I stiffen my back, trying to show I’m strong when everything inside of me is shaking.

He steps around the cabinet. “I’m going to bed, so unless you have something new or different to argue about, I’m done.”

“So. Am. I.” I place my hand on the stove, holding myself up.

Carter moves closer to me, mere inches from my face. “Go ahead, but you better be ready to prove any thought you’ve had rattling around in your head.”

“See, that’s exactly how much you don’t know about me.” A smile plays on my lips. “This isn’t about if I think you’re cheating, or even if you love me. It’s about me, and the fact that I don’t love myself.”

He rolls his eyes. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“I stopped caring a long time ago that you were fucking other women. I hated you for making me take a job making five times less the pay than my degree. I don’t even care whether you love me or not.” I lay my hand on my chest, praying my heart is still beating. “I’ve lost me. The person I was and the one I wanted to be.”

He leans in, gritting his teeth. “Please, don’t lay all this shit on me! You did this to us.”

“How the fuck do you believe that?” My body quakes with anger.

His brows hang low, shadowing his eyes. “You’ve never been a wife to me. You’ve refused to try or do whatever it took for us to be happy.”

“No.” I try to move, but his arms are on either side of me, holding me here to withstand all the ugliness he’s going to spew. “You’re not doing this to me. Not again.”

He’s in my face, I have nowhere to go, no place to hide. “You knew I wanted a family, but you couldn’t even do that, could you?”

“I’ve tried everything, you know that.” My voice trembles as the old wounds are slowly ripped open. “I went to every doctor you arranged, took all the experimental drugs offered, and for what? To put my body,”—I pound on my chest—“myself, through all of it.”

“If you want a baby as bad as you pretend, you would’ve done more.” His words cut through me, boring a hole into my soul.

“There it is.” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from shedding one more tear for this asshole.

He leans away, grinning. “So ... what. We’re not fighting anymore?”

“No.” I wipe my face, once red with anger and wet from tears, to offer a weak smile. “I’m done.”

He turns toward the bedroom. “Good, I need to be up in a few hours.”

“I want out, Carter.” He stops as if he’s hit a wall, spinning on his heels. I hold my hand up, making sure he knows not to come closer. “I want a divorce.”

He chuckles. “Never.”

“I’m not asking.” I brush past him. “Those days are over.”

My thumb runs over the number a hundred times or more as I contemplate dialing it. I need help, and I can’t think of another person who can give me what I need most right now.

I hit dial.

“Wait a sec, I have a problem with my phone.” My favorite person answers as only she can … sarcastically.

“Hate me later, but I need you now.” I chew on my nail as I wait, and the silence is deafening.

“What’s happened?” The sound of my sweet friend’s voice breaks my resolve.

My voice cracks. “I need some help packing.”