Every Wrong Reason

And somehow that was worse. Somehow I could take his harsh words and cruel accusations, but it was his neglect that pierced the hardest.


“I missed Annie,” he mumbled.

I knew I misheard him. He hated the dog. He complained about her daily. “What?”

He lifted his chin as if he was prepared to defend his words and the damn dog to the grave. “I missed Annie, okay? I just wanted… needed to make sure she was okay.”

A weird mixture of sorrow and affection twisted through me. I didn’t know whether to scream at him or hug him. Confused and tired, I turned away from him and faced the sink. I needed to do something. I needed to use my hands and think about anything else but my husband and the dog.

“I thought you hated her,” I accused weakly, my voice broken with hurt feelings and bewilderment.

His voice was lower to the ground when he responded. He’d bent over and started petting her in his rough, affectionate way. “I thought I did too.”

A lump so big and intrusive clogged my throat that I had to gasp for air. I didn’t bother to swipe at the tears leaking from my eyes. I didn’t want to draw attention to them.

So while Nick petted the dog he had avoided, complained about and glared at for three years, I focused on scrubbing the dishes I left out last night. The water burned my hands, turning my skin bright red, but I welcomed the heat and the pain. I needed to focus on something else. I needed to redirect my mind from whatever dangerous place it wanted to go.

Nick murmured sweet things to Annie and I forbid my body to turn around. Listening to his familiar voice, with his low, gravelly baritone did funny things to my resolve. I started questioning everything I’d decided about him. I wanted to reconsider my decisions and accusations.

I wanted to fall on my knees next to him and beg for his forgiveness.

Which was so silly. So completely ridiculous.

If anything, his surprise visit should hammer down the point. We weren’t right for each other. We couldn’t even be in the same room together without wanting to strangle each other.

We might be good people separately, but we were monsters together.

I was doing the right thing. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to live a life without screaming and name-calling.

I wanted to breathe again.

“Have you taken her for a walk yet?” His question was asked with a soft pleading that I couldn’t ignore, no matter how much the bitter part of me wanted to punish and torture him.

I shook my head, unable to speak the words that clawed at my throat. I kept my chin tucked to my chest so that my dark hair would fall in front of my face and cover the tears streaking my cheeks.

His voice grated when he asked, “Do you mind if… do you mind if I take her?”

I hoped he didn’t notice my quiet sobbing. I couldn’t stand the idea that he saw how weak I was acting. But the longer I thought about it, I decided the obvious emotion in his voice probably came from asking me permission.

Nick was nothing if not proud.

Instead of using this moment against him, I surprised myself by shrugging one shoulder and whispering in a thick voice, “Go ahead. She would love it.”

He stood there silently for a long minute. I felt his eyes sear into my back. I sucked in slow breaths and tried not to fidget. The only sound in the kitchen was the sound of Annie’s paws dancing on the tile and the splash of water as I worked on the dishes.

Finally, after endless moments, he asked, “Is her leash in the same spot?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, girl,” he called in a friendly voice. “Let’s go for a walk. Want to go for a walk?”

Annie pranced excitedly, her toenails clicking faster and faster. She let out an excited yelp and followed Nick into the hallway where the leash hung on the wall.

He fastened it quickly to her collar and they left out the front door.

“Traitor,” I hissed when they were gone.

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