Fuck fuck fuck.

What am I going to do?

I’m out of a job, I’m fighting with my husband , and everything feels like it’s spinning out of control all around me.

Not only am I out of a job, but the asshole I married doesn’t even care that it’s his fault I was fired in the first place.

I glance at the ball sitting on the mantle over the fireplace in my casita.

All because of a ball.

It wasn’t worth it. I’d rather Owen still had it. I’d rather still be mad about it than the spiral of consequences that have resulted from Travis getting it back for me.

I suppose it’s easy to place the blame on him, but I had a part in all this, too. I could’ve tried harder to stop him that night at the Gridiron when he took off after Owen. I could’ve opted not to marry him in the Bahamas. I could’ve declined his offer to move in.

I could’ve trusted my gut and stayed far away from him.

We got Harper to bed a couple hours ago, and I retreated to the casita. I didn’t feel welcome in the main house with the angry words from our fight earlier still looming between us, and I don’t feel comfortable heading over there until I’m invited.

In fact, I’m planning to just stay the night here. Give the two of us a little space.

But as I settle into a trashy reality television show to try to quiet my racing mind down, he appears in my doorway.

“Can we talk?”

I flick off the television and nod. I’m hoping we can have a conversation where we actually talk , where tempers don’t flare, where we don’t start yelling at each other…but I’m not sure that’s even possible. We’re two passionate people, and we started out hating one another. As I look back over the course of our relationship, it seems unfathomable that we ended up right here. Or maybe it seems inevitable…I’m not really sure.

He sits in the recliner angled beside the couch where I’m sitting, and he pulls a coin out of his pocket and flips it up into the air before catching it and sliding it back into his pocket.

I watch him do it then clear my throat. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he begins. “And I didn’t say it earlier, but I’m really sorry about the job. I know how much it meant to you, and I should’ve been more sensitive to that. It’s just…a lot to handle. All of this.”

I nod. “I know. And we’re letting it come between us instead of holding hands and joining forces to get through it together.”

He nods as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. He presses his palms together, and my eyes flick to his hands. His talented hands that flip quarters and catch footballs and pleasure me until I’m screaming. “We’re not just letting it come between us, Vic. We’re blaming each other.”

It’s the first time he’s called me that. It’s always Hartley and sometimes Victoria , but never Vic . And I’m not sure why that affects me the way it does.

I nod as I acknowledge what he just said. He’s right. I blame him for losing my job as much as he blames me for the punishment he just received at his.

“It’s not fair, but sometimes we can’t help the way we feel,” I say quietly.

“And how do you feel?” he asks.

I’m quiet as I try to put words to the feelings racing through me. It’s a massive jumble of confusion. Love and hate, need and fear, protectiveness over Harper and protectiveness over myself. I feel stuck, but I also feel like there’s a way out if I need it.

Do I need it?

“I don’t know,” I admit.

“I leave for camp in two weeks,” he says, pulling my attention from his hands as my eyes flick back to his. “I’ll be spending more time at the gym and in the classroom as I prepare, and I keep thinking how physical distance isn’t going to make any of this better.”

“I know,” I agree. “We need time, but we don’t have it. And we need to stop blaming each other. But I’m not sure I know how.”

“What does that even mean?”

I shrug, my heart racing as I say the words that have plagued my mind all day. All week. All month. “This is all so new, and I’m not sure we made the right decision.”

He presses his lips together as if he’s attempting to keep himself from saying something he might regret. Eventually, he sighs then asks, “So what do we do?”

I shake my head a little. “I don’t know. Hit pause until we can focus on us? But where does that leave Harper?”

“Nothing has to change. We don’t need to rush into any decisions. Look where it got us the last time we did. But I have to be honest with you, Hartley. I love seeing you be a mother to her. I love how you love each other, how happy you make her, and her happiness will always be my top priority. But I keep coming back to the same question. If you’re just holding on for her , where does that leave us ?”

I let out a long breath as his question sits in the air surrounding us, suffocating me as the tension between us builds more and more, making it harder and harder to draw in another breath.

It’s something I didn’t really stop to consider.

Am I just hanging on for Harper? I married him to protect her, to build stability for her…and also because I love him. But that last factor was a side note, not the main reason.

I need to hold on at least until the Callahans quit their quest for custody. I need to make sure Harper stays with her father where she belongs.

But the closer I grow to her, the harder it’ll be to extract myself from this family if that’s the right decision where Travis and I are concerned.

Marrying him gave me the family I always wanted in the blink of an eye. But the more space that divides the two of us, the more concerned I’m becoming that the dream of having children of my own is getting pushed further and further away, and I’m not quite sure where that leaves me when the inevitable end falls upon us.

Without a job.

Without a husband.

Without a child.

Just me…all alone.

“I don’t know,” I finally admit, and he nods before he gets up to leave, no further words exchanged between the two of us.