Her happy face has grown tight. “But we are more than sex, Rowan. I mean, we have to be more than sex, otherwise we won’t survive.”
I clench my jaw. What I’m hearing her say is she doesn’t want to have sex. Or maybe fucking is fine, but it’s me that’s the problem. “Are you seeing someone else?” I spit out. “All those nights that I’m working to provide for us, are you spending those with someone else?”
Her face grows blank and then hard with fury. “Are you serious right now?”
Why is she angry? I’m not the one who turned her down. I’m not the one who filed for divorce. “What else am I supposed to think when you’d rather sit out here freezing your tits off than go inside and lie down by the fire and make love?”
“It’s not even that cold out here, and I wanted to spend some time with you that didn’t involve us taking our clothes off! We can’t spend every minute we’re together naked. We have to learn how to talk to each other.”
I cross my arms. “So talk. Who are you sleeping with?”
She throws her hands in the air. “No one, including you!”
She spins on her heel and dashes into the house, slamming the door behind her. The little house shakes on impact. I could storm up the stairs and wrench the door open, which will end up in us making love, and then she’ll be angry, accusing me of only wanting her for sex. I force myself down the stairs and back to the chopping block. It takes me two hours to work out my frustration and sexual energy, and by that time, I have enough wood to last us an entire winter. I carry a load into the house. The kitchen is spotless, and the small living room is clean too.
I dump the firewood beside the fireplace and throw two more logs onto the dwindling flames.
“Charlee?” I call.
“In the bedroom,” comes the quiet response.
I find her tucking in a pretty quilt with colorful patchwork.
“Sorry,” she says without looking up. She tosses a pillow on top of the quilt and makes a show of plumping it until it looks like a stuffed turkey.
“What are you sorry for?”
“Shouting at you, I guess. I don’t want to fight.”
“I don’t like that either.” I reach across the bed and tilt her chin up. “What’s got you worked up?”
“Why did you accuse me of cheating on you? I would never do that.” There’s a real wounded look in her eyes.
My heart squeezes. “Sorry. The thought of you with another man makes me crazed. I can’t take it. You know how possessive I am. I don’t even like seeing the clerk talk to you at the convenience store on the first floor of the building.”
“I know.” One side of her lip whisks up only to fall again. “Are you having an affair?”
“No,” I reply swift and sharp. “Is that why you asked for a divorce? You were my first, and you’ll be my last, Charlee. It’s until death do us part for me. When I said my vows, I meant them.”
“You’re implying that I didn’t mean my vows?”
I rein in my temper. I know I have a fearsome one, and I need to keep it at bay. At least she’s talking to me, and that’s the whole point of us coming here. No divorce until we talked through the fine points. “I can only judge things by your actions. Telling me you want to end our marriage, going to a lawyer behind my back and getting papers drawn up says that you don’t believe in the things you swore to. What am I supposed to think?”
“Right.”
Silence falls. I wait for her to say more, but her mouth seems zipped shut. My fingers clench and unclench at my side as I contemplate reaching across the mattress and throwing her down on the bed. When she’s nude and under me, there is never any talk of divorce or separation. There’s only want and need. Is there any question as to why I’m constantly taking her clothes off, sliding inside her body, rutting into her until neither of us have energy to move? I raise my hand and she startles, skittering back until she’s more than an arm’s length away. I let my hand fall to my side. Sometimes in business, you have to take a risk to get a big reward. It feels like you’re jumping off the top of a building with no safety net, but if you don’t make the leap, you’ll never get to the jackpot. I curl my fingers into my palm and jump.
“I’ll give you a divorce on Christmas morning if you do everything I say until then. No questions asked.”
six
CHARLEE
I stare at Rowan in shock, trying to get my anger under control. How can I go from laughing and having the best time with him to wanting to scream and cry in rage? Only Rowan could ever draw all these different emotions from me.