Seeing her jaw drop at my question warned me that she hadn’t considered the sacrifices I’d made to support her. Theresponsibility for traveling and keeping our relationship alive had fallen to me.
“We manage.” Her response sounded flippant to my ears.
“And you feel us ‘managing’ is enough? After all the trials we’ve been through we should be what’s most important to you, not the band, music or anything else that comes with the job we do. Music will be there when we’re not. Promoting is part of our lives, but not to the sacrifice of our marriage.”
“Is this your way of saying thatyouaren’t happy?” The incredulous tone confirming that she’d never considered this.
“What if I’m not?” I ground out.
“Aren’t you?” she muttered, sounding hurt. Her face almost crumpled, but she quickly schooled her expression.
“No, if I’m honest, I’m not,” I disclosed. I huffed out a breath, infuriated that I’d left our home earlier to avoid our argument from spiraling, yet we’d locked horns anyway. If anything, my few hours away had let my hurt fester, which had only compounded the situation.
“This is about children, right?” she challenged, narrowing her eyes in a studious expression.
Lily’s comment stopped our argument dead. I knew her stance on kids. She wasn’t ready, but the extra years I had on her made me less content about not starting a family.
I’d lost my parents so young, and because of my personal feelings about this I hadn’t wanted the responsibilities of being a parent. I’d been contented to drift along with our childless marriage. However, about five years ago I’d begun to consider the joys of fatherhood and family life, especially since I’d seen how Drew and Jack’s children had enriched their lives.
“I’m not going to lie. I do want children, but I respect that you don’t feel ready,” I admitted.
“And each time you tell me that, it makes me feel like I’m depriving you of them,” Lily shot back.
“What do you want me to say? It doesn’t matter?” I challenged, wandering away from her. I removed one of the decorative pillows off our bed, sat down on the mattress and hugged it.
“So, I’m the wicked wife?” she suggested, tossing an arm out in annoyance. “I’m not saying we won’t have children. But I am saying, not now.”
“Fine. Please yourself. I support that. But I’m saying, I’m taking a year off. Hell, I might even take a road trip and see some of our beautiful country, since you’ve already said you’ll be so busy with your band.”
Heat stained her cheeks as she glared furiously toward me. “Fuck you. Go, take your road trip. The break might do us both good.”
CHAPTER 14
LILY
I stood stunned at my outburst while Alfie’s usually bright hazel eyes blazed in temper. Time stood still between us, until he broke the silence.
“Fuck it. There’s no point in trying to reason with you. And since you didn’t outright answer my question, I don’t think you’re happy,” he stated. He stood up, brushed past me and headed into his walk-in closet.
“Not happy with what?” I asked, following him but stopping at the threshold of his closet. “Why are you insisting I’m not happy.”
“Because you don’t behave as if you are. What will it take to put me first, Lily? Don’t tell me it’s the band because you guys don’t need to try so hard anymore. You’ve made it… or do those platinum discs on the wall in our music studio in the basement mean nothing to you?”
Lifting his leather weekend bag, he walked toward me. I stepped aside to let him pass and he dumped it on our bed.
My chest tightened in panic. “What are you doing?”
“Taking that trip you sanctioned,” he snapped. “You’re right. I love you, but I’m tired of fighting. Life shouldn’t be this hard.” Alfie moved over to a tall dresser, scooped a pile of neatly folded T-shirts from a drawer, and placed them on the bed.
“It’s not hard, it’s just… busy?” I suggested as panic rose in my chest as I fought back a hysterical feeling and took a deep breath.
“Busy for you, it’s not for me. I’m taking a break, remember?” he ground out while he strode back into his closet and returned with several pairs of jeans. Placing everything together in one pile he stuffed it all into his bag.
The more clothes he added, the more panicked I became, but I was so furious at him telling me how I felt, that I couldn’t allow myself to beg him to stop. But I couldn’t just let him walk out either.
“Okay, let’s take this down a notch. I’m sorry I told you to go. I didn’t mean it,” I reasoned, waving my hands, palms upward in a placating motion.
“Maybe so, but life does feel hard right now. Time apart is what we both need, to see where our future is going. As my need to see you outweighs your need to make time for me, I think we should perhaps test that out.”
