Between Then and Now by Rebecca Young

Chapter One
     
    Ian Nixon
had never before considered heading to the pub instead of going
home at the end of a work day. Eight years of scrimping and saving,
crying babies and tantruming toddlers, medical troubles and family
interference, and he’d always embraced the drama.
    But this wasn’t something they could face
together. Now the drama was between them, and he didn’t know if he
could handle another chilly conversation where he ended up the bad
guy when he had no clue what the problem was.
    It had been a long, hot summer. Long days in
the field. Too many nights spent pouring over other people’s
bookkeeping. Carrie had been onboard with him picking up the extra
work, but maybe those nights would have been better spent in their
bed. Wrapped around his wife.
    Had there been clues? Hindsight was a fucking
bitch. Of course there had been clues. A bite of the lip. An
indrawn breath. Wrinkled brows and shrugged shoulders. A few false
starts at conversations about work and balance, but the real alarms
should have gone off when all of that faded.
    Silence chilled like nothing
else.
    It took him a few weeks to notice, because he
was an idiot. Then he got mad, which didn’t help. Calling it out as
passive aggressive crap really didn’t go over well. Thinking that
was the end of it was even worse.
    But in between the empty smiles that didn’t
meet her eyes and the long-suffering sighs, happiness still flowed
through and around his wife. She was at a great place with the
kids. Drew had finally potty trained, and Kaylie was loving
kindergarten. Her cake business was taking off, as it should,
because Carrie turned sugar and butter and flour into something
better than a slow fuck on a Sunday morning.
    He swelled at the image of his curvy wife
underneath him, kids somewhere far, far away. No, there was nothing
better than a naked Carrie in the morning. But her German chocolate
cake came pretty damn close.
    Too bad he’d missed his opportunities to
figure out what her problem was. There hadn’t been any cake, or
proper naked time, in far too long. His own fault.
    Ian stopped at the end of his
parents’ lane. He’d been working their farm since he’d learned to
walk, and until this summer, he’d never thought he’d walk away from
it. But something had to give, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to
be his marriage. Whatever Carrie’s problem was, they were going to
sort it out. Together. Because if his wife was upset, he was
upset.
    He lifted his foot off the ground and gunned
his bike for home.
     
    “ Daddy’s going to be home any
minute. Drew, get off the table. Kaylie, stop telling your brother
what to do. You need to worry about yourself and let me be the mom,
okay?” Carrie grabbed plates from the cupboard and set them on the
counter. Cutlery. Cups of juice, glasses of water. “Drew? Would you
rather milk or juice?”
    “ Mwilk, pwease.”
    The back door swung open, and Ian
stepped into the kitchen. He shrugged off his leather jacket and
hung it on a high hook. Good lord, he was handsome. Tired, though.
When had he started to look so weary? Her heart ached to smooth
that away, make it easier for him. Before she could say anything,
Drew had leapt into his dad’s arms, and just like that, Ian lit up.
“Hey bud, were you a good boy today for Mommy?”
    The three-year-old bobbed his head
solemnly. “No timeouts, no twouble.”
    “ That’s what I like to hear. I’m
gonna take a quick shower, you go play.” Drew hit the ground
running, and finally Ian was across the room. She lifted her face
for a kiss. Too quick. Never enough time. She sighed, and he tipped
her chin up with one knuckle. “Hey, babe.”
    “ Hey.”
    “ Missed you today. Miss you every
day.” That smile again. Too weak. What was on his mind?
    “ Everything okay?” He nodded and
leaned in to dust her mouth with another kiss. “More,” she
whispered.
    His tongued darted out and swiped at her
bottom lip. Eight years and she still shivered.