He had slept next to her for thirty-six years, and the mattress felt different without her weight, however slight, and without the rhythm of her breath the dark had no measure. There were times he woke feeling cold from the lack of the heat that once came from between her thighs and behind her knees. He might have even called her, if he could have momentarily forgotten that he already knew everything she could possibly say.
Because—truth?—on the scale of significance, that stuff doesn’t even register. What has me pushed past the boiling point...what has me really, really upset is learning the woman I thought was so incredibly strong I married her on the spot...is actually a quitter who runs from challenge, a coward too afraid to even try, a liar who makes promises she won’t keep and a cynic too bitter to believe what’s right in front of her face. Is that real enough for you?
A mistake? The most passionate night of his life was a mistake? Her first time and that’s what she thought. That grated on him in the worst way. “Is that what you think, Beth?”“Don’t call me that.”“Why, Beth?”“You know I hate that name.”“Oh, so sorry, Beth. I do apologize, Beth.” He was being petty and he knew it, but he didn’t give a damn. She’d always brought out the very worst in him.She reached up and twisted his ear. “Ow!”“Out of my way, Robert Lemonade,” she said casually, pissing him off in the worst way.