“You would still love me if I could have more children, Brody, I know it.”

My head slowly shook back and forth as I turned to look at her. There was already makeup streaking down her cheeks with her tears as she hunched in on herself. “You and I both know that’s not it,” I said. “We’ve drifted too far apart, and it started long before Tate.”

“But—but it didn’t!”

Holding back a sigh, I put an arm around Olivia’s waist and led her to one of the large couches and sat down next to her. “We both know you only stayed with me to piss your parents off. Just like we know that we would have never stayed together or gotten married if you hadn’t gotten pregnant.”

“No, I don’t know that!” she cried and wiped miserably at her face.

“Liv, you refused to see me. You wouldn’t let me see our son. You didn’t want to live with me . . . you and I hadn’t loved each other for a long time before we got married. It had nothing to do with Tate or you not being able to have more kids.”

“That’s not true! I love you! I do.”

“You don’t. Olivia, I want a divorce.” A loud sob left her, and her face hit her hands. “We’re both miserable,” I continued. “We can’t keep doing this to each other. Let’s just end this on good terms and go our separate ways.”

“You can’t just stop loving me all of a sudden!”

“Olivia, this isn’t sudden. How haven’t you noticed that we haven’t even been going through the motions of being married? Do you even see that I’ve been sleepwalking through the last five years of my life?”

“I don’t care—”

“And that’s just it,” I said, interrupting her. “You don’t care. You don’t care about me, you don’t care about my life, you don’t care about what I want. I want to be able to live my life, Olivia, and you and I both know you’re happier without me too, so this is the obvious thing for us to do.”

“I’ve lost everything! I lost Tate, I lost the ability to have more children . . . I can’t lose you.”

I ground my jaw at the umpteenth reminder of Tate that night and shut my eyes.

“Our baby is gone, Brody. You’ve already taken everything. Don’t take you from me too. Don’t tell me I lost you with Tate.”

Goddamn it; stop bringing up what I did! “Olivia—”

“Please, Brody. After everything you’ve done, you owe it to me to stay with me.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tried to hold back the tears that had begun forming. “I can’t, I—”

“I’ll die without you, Brody! Do you hear me? I. Will. Die. Do you want my death on your hands too?”

“Olivia, stop!”

“You promised you’d help me! You promised you were on my side. No one else knows what it’s like to go through this, no one else knows that I can’t deal with this pain. And you swore you were going to get me help. And now you’re just going to leave me?” she shouted. “How could you do this to me? After everything else you’ve done, Brody?!”

“I have tried, Olivia,” I said, exhaustion coating my voice. “I have tried so many times to get you help. You say you want it, but I know you don’t.”

“It’s because of this! It’s because I know once you put me in that f**king mental institution you’re going to leave me there forever. You’ll never come back for me. You’ll never check on me. You won’t love me anymore; you’re going to leave me. I know it! You’re just trying to throw me in there so you don’t have to deal with me anymore.”

“No, what I’m trying to do is make sure that you get the help you need so that when I leave you, you won’t kill yourself, Olivia!” I shouted before I could stop myself.

Olivia’s eyes and mouth went wide, and her tears fell impossibly harder. “I knew it! You’re going to leave me as soon as I’m in there! I won’t go. I won’t f**king go! And if you leave me, I swear to God I won’t be alive the next day! Do you hear me?”

My shoulders sagged in defeat and my breath came out in a hard rush. “Liv—”

“How do you think Daddy’s attorney would like that?” she asked, her lip curling in disgust.

My eyes narrowed on her for a long moment before I shook my head and stood. With a hard swallow, I turned and walked toward the hallway. “Go to bed, Olivia. You’re drunk.”

“No! You’re going to leave—”

“I’m not leaving you. You’re f**king sick. I’m gonna get you help. Just like I said I would.”

15

Kamryn

July 5, 2015

THE BELL CHIMED, and I made my way to the front of the bakery. After Aiden had gone home last night, I’d barely been able to force myself through a shower before falling asleep. Yesterday had been draining in so many ways, and for the first time since I’d opened the bakery I didn’t want to be at work.

We should have put up the MONDAYS SUCK board this morning.

A beautiful woman not much older than me was talking on her phone when I walked out, and she did a double-take when she saw me, her eyebrows drawing together as she studied me. I pulled off my glasses and realized I probably looked weird to her with flour on my face and glasses. I looked around for a napkin so I could clean them off.