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“Do you want to go to Mexico for dinner?”
Did I hear her correctly?
“No? Have we ever gone to Mexico for dinner?”
She shrugs, which would indicate that maybe we have, but I swear we haven’t.
“Driving to Mexico doesn’t appeal to me right now. If it’s something you want to do, I need to have a solid plan.”
“Why do you need a plan, Quinn? Why can’t you be spontaneous?”
I thought Iwasbeing spontaneous when I asked to go to the club.
“Mexico, particularly Tijuana, because it’s the closest, would take us about four hours, without traffic and border patrol. It’s already . . .” I look at my phone and see that it’s half past seven. “Seven-thirty, so we won’t even be at the border until eleven. None of this sounds safe.”
“Don’t you ever want to escape who you are? To just say fuck it and take off?”
I shake my head slowly. “No, I like who I am. Don’t you like who you are? Who I am?”
“Yes, but I feel like we’re missing so much life by being here all the time.”
“Nola, I’m confused. I’m giving you an opportunity to tour the US, on my dime. You can take a rental and tour whatever city we’re in. You can literally do whatever you want, but you tell me you have school, and now you’re telling me we’re missing so much life by being here all the time.”
“I’m not going on tour with you, Quinn,” she snaps. She stands and walks toward the stairs that lead to our bedroom and then turns around. “I love how you take something I want to do and turn it into a tour. Not everything is about you and your stupid band.” She stomps up the steps. I startle when the bedroom door slams shut, even though I knew it was coming.
“Fucking wonderful,” I mutter to the empty room. “Ugh.” My hands push through my hair roughly, and my fingers instantly miss being able to pull at the ends of my hair.
What in the hell did I do wrong now?
I replay the conversation back in my mind; it went from me asking to take her out to Nola wanting to go to Mexico without a plan and then telling me we’re missing so much life. Yet, all of it is my fault.
Somehow.
Women are confusing.
I think about going upstairs but can’t bring myself to be near her right now. She’s going through something, and whatever it is, she doesn’t want to confide in me. To some extent, I get it. I don’t need to be her only confidant, but we’re engaged and hopefully soon to be married, shouldn’t she tell me what’s bothering her so I can try and fix it? I’ve tried asking her what’s wrong. I sat with her for hours, encouraging her to speak to me and tell me how she feels, wanting to understand what’s going on, but she never says anything. At first, I was patient, but there is only so much you can take, only so many times you can bite your tongue, before the patience runs thin and dissolves into nothing. Now, I’m running on tension and frustration.
Instead of going upstairs to bed, I pull a blanket from the stack we keep in the closet and spread it out on the couch while I mindlessly watch TV.
“Where are you going?”Nola asks as I come out of the walk-in closet, dressed in literally the same thing I wear every day—shorts, a T-shirt, and my black Doc Martin boots. I only have those on because I plan to take my bike out today.
“My parents.”
“Did you want to tell me?”
After sleeping on the couch the night before, I wasn’t sure we were on speaking terms this morning. It’s hard to tell where I fall in her daily life.
This morning, she never even asked me why I didn’t come to bed. Hell, she didn’t even say good morning.
“I’m pretty sure you know what today is, Nola. You are in the group chat my mother created.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I know when you’re leaving.”
I throw my hands up in exasperation. “I didn’t know you were going,” I tell her. “You haven’t replied to my mom once about the party. You didn’t mention it to me. I’m sorry, but this back-and-forth with you is giving me whiplash. I don’t know if I’m supposed to say something to you so you can tell me to stop expecting the world to revolve around me or just assume you’re going so you can tell me how selfish I am.”
“I never said you’re selfish.”
I roll my eyes. “Right, but you said last night that the world revolves around me and the tour so what am I supposed to think?”