Page 90 of Happy Wife

“No need to be. Hungry?”

“Starving.”

He pulled things out of the refrigerator like a magician pulling rabbits out of a hat. I sat down on a nearby stool. Even as I watched him get to work, my mind was reeling.

I didn’t think I regretted the marriage, and I didn’t think I wanted to leave Will. There was so much about our life that was good. I liked the protection living in his world offered, even if it came with the stigma of being his young wife. I loved him. But I hated feeling like a burden to him, and the way he looked at me—like I was just a naïve kid—made me wonder if he was having regrets.

The teakettle whistled, and we both looked at it. Marcusturned the burner down and started to assemble a mug with raw honey and a chamomile tea bag.

“Here.” He offered me the mug, and my hands were warmed just by holding it. Then, he pulled something out from the broiler and put a plate of food in front of me. It looked like cold cuts on toast, but after my first bite, I realized it was heaven on a plate. Some perfect, toasty grilled cheese comfort food thing that I devoured.

“I like your place. It’s just like you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Warm, down to earth, a little arty.”

“Your deflections come with a side of compliments tonight, I see.” I could tell he meant it as a joke, but his eyes were pulled down a little in concern. “We can talk about the fight.”

“I’d rather not.”

He walked back to the living room and took a seat on the couch. I sat down on the other side. I’m not sure why, but I put an oversize pillow between us.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked.

“The fight?” I shook my head. “I don’t know. I just want to undo it. I want it to have never happened. But it did. I walked out of the house hours ago. I thought he would call, you know? I keep thinking he’s going to fight for me. To do something to try to keep me…But he won’t.”

As I said the words, the lightbulb went off in my head—the realization was as clear as day.

Will isn’t going to fight for me. He doesn’t like to fight anyone. He doesn’t like to fight.

When Constance stole all his wine or burst into his house to yell at me, he didn’t want to confront her about it. And when Fritz made a scene, Will just shook his head. The biggest reaction I’d ever seen from him was tonight, when I goaded him into a fight he didn’t want to have.

“Everyone deserves someone who will fight for them,” Marcus said softly, and there was a hint of regret in his voice.

“Well, I might be out of luck.”

“Have you tried telling him that’s what you need?”

“I asked about counseling. I told him I was lonely. He shut it all down.”

Marcus nodded, taking it in. “The only marriage advice I have is don’t take marriage advice from a single guy like me.” He chuckled gently. “It sounds complicated, and I really hope there’s a solution where you get what you need.”

I could tell he was choosing his words carefully and trying hard not to criticize Will.

“You’re being kind.”

“You want me to be mean?”

“I want to know what you’d tell your sister to do if you had one.”

“I have a sister.” He straightened up slightly. “And I’d want her to be happy. But you have to decide what that means. What do you want your life to look like in five years?”

Five years felt like a lifetime from now. Before I met Will, I was living paycheck to paycheck. And then when we started dating, I got so swept up in the moment. I lived life looking forward to the next date or weekend together. It was so all-consuming that we never talked about the long term. Now, thinking about the way Will looked at me when I asked about a baby made my stomach hurt.

I put my head in my hands. “I’ve made so many mistakes.”

Marcus put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to have it all figured out tonight,” he reassured me softly. “It’s late. Maybe you just need to get some sleep. If you don’t want to go home, I have a guest room.” He looked at my designer dress. “And a T-shirt you can borrow.”