bubble, a funhouse mirror effect, but instead of warping beauty, it hid blights, highlighted the good, elevated the positive. His schnoz disappeared for a while. Now it was back, and she hated Colton for allowing its return.
Colton slid into the car again, started the engine, and pulled out of the BP station. When they were back on the interstate, she glanced over at him, at his slab of a nose, and shivered. How cold she had become—Frosty the Snow Bitch tooling across eastern Alabama in a silver Subaru hatchback, accompanied by Stonehenge himself. Itself . Whatever .
Frosty the snow bitch? No, she wouldn’t do that. There was no need to call herself names. Colton had screwed the pooch (well, the pooch sitter , anyway) and spoiled everything. Damn him. How had she ever loved—?
Do not finish that thought, young lady. You’re angry. You finish that sentence and all this, all nine years of it, is over. Shut up and stare at your nail polish or something.
“Are you going to talk to me?” Colton asked.
Juliet was so shocked by his sudden question that it took her several seconds to respond.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“ This . You and me. Why you’re leaving.”
“Oh,” she said shortly, “you mean you cheating on me. Gotcha.”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel, blanching the knuckles.
Juliet laughed mirthlessly. “You have no right to get angry here.”
She returned to the view scrolling past her window. The silhouettes of trees whizzed by, highlighted only by the backsplash of a red warning light atop a tower somewhere in the distance. Juliet tried to assure herself that she didn’t feel like throwing open her door and spilling out onto the tarmac simply to get away from the current topic of conversation.
“I’m not angry,” Colton said. “I’m frustrated. You said we’d work this out. That you wanted to work this out.”
“I do want to work this out,” she said, without looking at him. “It’s just too new. I need time. That’s why I’m visiting my mother. But, of course, I’ve already told you all this multiple times. Perhaps if my name were Vicky you’d give enough of a shit to actually listen to me.”
“She didn’t matter to me.”
“Right. You were just screwing her.”
“That’s low.”
She reared on him. “I’m low? Are you kidding me? You’ve got some nerve. Seriously .”
He flinched under her words.
“How are we going to rise above this if you can’t let it go?” he asked.
“We don’t have to rise above it. I have to forgive you . Right now, you’re not making that very easy. You messed up, Colt. Not me. If I do forgive you, it will be on my terms.”
A silence weighing roughly the same as a sumo wrestler settled upon them. Juliet glared at her husband’s crimson-splashed face. He still seemed to be angry, which infuriated her even more. Did he really think this was her problem? That she’d done something wrong by not accepting his apology and jumping back in the sack with him minutes after he’d been caught? What the hell was wrong with him?
Colton shattered the fragile quiet with, “Do you even love me anymore?”
She slapped him. It was an awkward thing. She’d been going for his left cheek. Instead, her right hand whapped down atop his lips, as if she were a mother popping a child on the mouth because they’d cursed. Colton barely flinched, though. His gaze traveled ever so slowly from the road to her, and she had a brief moment’s thought that he was about to direct them into those red-rimmed trees.
“I guess I deserved that.”
And with that, he focused on the road once more. His fists relaxed, and blood returned to his knuckles. A soft hand lighted upon Juliet’s left thigh, squeezing through her jeans. She didn’t allow it to linger, shooing it away with the back of one hand.
“What I meant was, I still love you,” he said, “and I hope one day you can forgive me enough to remember that we used to share
Colton slid into the car again, started the engine, and pulled out of the BP station. When they were back on the interstate, she glanced over at him, at his slab of a nose, and shivered. How cold she had become—Frosty the Snow Bitch tooling across eastern Alabama in a silver Subaru hatchback, accompanied by Stonehenge himself. Itself . Whatever .
Frosty the snow bitch? No, she wouldn’t do that. There was no need to call herself names. Colton had screwed the pooch (well, the pooch sitter , anyway) and spoiled everything. Damn him. How had she ever loved—?
Do not finish that thought, young lady. You’re angry. You finish that sentence and all this, all nine years of it, is over. Shut up and stare at your nail polish or something.
“Are you going to talk to me?” Colton asked.
Juliet was so shocked by his sudden question that it took her several seconds to respond.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“ This . You and me. Why you’re leaving.”
“Oh,” she said shortly, “you mean you cheating on me. Gotcha.”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel, blanching the knuckles.
Juliet laughed mirthlessly. “You have no right to get angry here.”
She returned to the view scrolling past her window. The silhouettes of trees whizzed by, highlighted only by the backsplash of a red warning light atop a tower somewhere in the distance. Juliet tried to assure herself that she didn’t feel like throwing open her door and spilling out onto the tarmac simply to get away from the current topic of conversation.
“I’m not angry,” Colton said. “I’m frustrated. You said we’d work this out. That you wanted to work this out.”
“I do want to work this out,” she said, without looking at him. “It’s just too new. I need time. That’s why I’m visiting my mother. But, of course, I’ve already told you all this multiple times. Perhaps if my name were Vicky you’d give enough of a shit to actually listen to me.”
“She didn’t matter to me.”
“Right. You were just screwing her.”
“That’s low.”
She reared on him. “I’m low? Are you kidding me? You’ve got some nerve. Seriously .”
He flinched under her words.
“How are we going to rise above this if you can’t let it go?” he asked.
“We don’t have to rise above it. I have to forgive you . Right now, you’re not making that very easy. You messed up, Colt. Not me. If I do forgive you, it will be on my terms.”
A silence weighing roughly the same as a sumo wrestler settled upon them. Juliet glared at her husband’s crimson-splashed face. He still seemed to be angry, which infuriated her even more. Did he really think this was her problem? That she’d done something wrong by not accepting his apology and jumping back in the sack with him minutes after he’d been caught? What the hell was wrong with him?
Colton shattered the fragile quiet with, “Do you even love me anymore?”
She slapped him. It was an awkward thing. She’d been going for his left cheek. Instead, her right hand whapped down atop his lips, as if she were a mother popping a child on the mouth because they’d cursed. Colton barely flinched, though. His gaze traveled ever so slowly from the road to her, and she had a brief moment’s thought that he was about to direct them into those red-rimmed trees.
“I guess I deserved that.”
And with that, he focused on the road once more. His fists relaxed, and blood returned to his knuckles. A soft hand lighted upon Juliet’s left thigh, squeezing through her jeans. She didn’t allow it to linger, shooing it away with the back of one hand.
“What I meant was, I still love you,” he said, “and I hope one day you can forgive me enough to remember that we used to share
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