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D amn. Is Claire still mad about that picture? I really thought we had it all worked out after our talk last night.

But if we’re okay, why did she just leave half her sandwich on the plate and run outside?

Stranger still, she didn’t want me to come with her.

That’s not like her.

That’s not like us .

What I’d like to do is go outside and take her in my arms. I’d tell her that somewhere along the line, I’ve fallen in love with her.

Or I don’t know, maybe I always have been?

But I can’t go to her right now. I can’t tell her anything. She’s clearly still pissed at me.

Hell, knowing Claire, she’d probably punch me.

But even worse, what if I came clean and she told me she doesn’t love me? At least not in the same way.

That would fucking crush my heart.

We’d have to get a divorce. Something we never bring up but will probably happen.

But I don’t want a divorce.

I want to stay married to Claire.

I just wish we could be a true husband and wife.

Someday we’re going to have to address this.

But not today.

No, today I’ll just finish my sandwich and give her some space.

A week goes by, and things with Claire and I remain the same—tense and weird. It doesn’t help that one of the days I have that lunch with the girl who won at the charity auction.

Claire knows and acts like she doesn’t care. But there’s clear relief on her face when I return and tell her a team representative joined us. It wasn’t just me and the girl.

And so life goes on…

The rest of the week, there are moments when it feels like we’re back to normal. Like the other day when we took a hike, everything was fabulous. We laughed and talked and even hung out at the table by Stan for a while.

But then, once we returned to the house, that strange awkwardness came roaring back.

Same thing the other night.

I asked Claire if she wanted to watch a movie. She was all into it and even more excited when I suggested a romantic comedy, a true chick flick.

Hey, I’m willing to do anything to make her happy at this point.

Anyway, once the movie started, I thought we were having a good time. We were joking around and commenting on the funny parts.

But then a love scene came on, and Claire abruptly got up and left.

I didn’t even get an explanation.

I thought at first that she had just run to the bathroom.

But she never returned.

When I asked her the next day what happened, she just shrugged it off and said she got really tired and went to bed.

Yeah, right.

When she realized I wasn’t buying it at all, she tried to tell me that she didn’t really like the movie.

I just kept thinking how she was into it up to that point. I guess that love scene really turned her off.

Hmm, wonder why?

I didn’t call her out, though.

I just said, “You should have told me you didn’t like it. We could have put on something else.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” she replied. “I truly was exhausted too. I didn’t even have the energy to come back down and tell you I was done for the night.”

Ahh, we were back to that bullshit.

Hell, it wasn’t even that late when she bailed on me.

But, again, I kept all that to myself.

Today I’m golfing with Lennox and Shane. I don’t even know what Claire is up to. She was already gone from the house when I got up.

“Easton, you’re up,” Lennox says, jarring me from my thoughts.

I was totally zoning out.

“I’m on it,” I reply as I walk over to the green and tee up the ball.

I think about all my frustration with Claire, and when I take a swing, I knock that motherfucker almost all the way to the next green.

“Holy shit,” Shane says. “Nice shot, man.”

“Thanks,” I murmur.

We’re on the fourth hole, and I’ve been kicking ass so far. When you’re dealing with a lot of confusion, whacking the shit out of something is very cathartic.

But I guess I’m not hiding my feelings all that well, seeing as, while Shane tees up, Lennox asks me, “Is everything okay at home?”

I play dumb. “You mean with Claire?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, sure,” I reply with way too much enthusiasm. “Things are great.”

Okay, that was over the top, and Lennox knows it.

We’re silent as we watch Shane hit the ball off to the tree line on the right.

I’m safe from further interrogation, because we have to pile into the golf cart and drive down to where Shane’s ball is in the rough.

Then again, maybe I’m not so safe, seeing as Lennox starts it back up when he asks, “Claire’s not still mad about that picture, is she?”

Shane, who’s driving the cart, jumps in. “You still in trouble, man? You know, we can talk to her if you want.”

“No, no,” I reply. “I appreciate the offer, guys. I really do. But like I said, everything is super. She’s not mad about anything.”

“That’s good,” Shane says.

They seem to accept my explanation.

We reach the tree line, and thankfully the subject is changed back to golf.

But Claire is still on my mind.

Part of what I told them is true—she’s not mad about the picture. At least I don’t think she is.

But there is a problem of some sort, and I fear it’s far deeper.

The scariest part is, I have a feeling whatever this tension is between me and Claire, it’s about to blow way the fuck up.

I just hope we both survive.