“Who?”
“I don’t know, Roman. It’s not like I’m friendly with the other members of your cub.” I can’t keep the bitterness from seeping into my voice.
He looks at me for a long moment, jaw clenching. “I need to make a call.”
I laugh, although nothing about this is remotely funny. “Of course you do.”
I turn back to the wheel, but the piece is beyond saving now. I pull it off the bat, drop it into the reclaim bucket, where the clay will soften and eventually be reused. Nothing wasted, just transformed and given another chance.
If only fixing my marriage could be that simple.
By the time Roman returns, I’ve cleaned up most of my workspace. I’m washing my hands at the small sink in the corner, my back to the door. I hear him pause in the doorway but don’t turn around.
“Everything okay?” I ask, though what I really want to say is, who did you call? What did you tell them? Why is me meetingNaomi in town worth a phone call? Why can’t you share any of this with me?
“Fine,” he says, his tone making it clear that no further information will be forthcoming.
I dry my hands slowly, giving myself time to decide how much I want to push this. When I turn around, Roman is still standing there, his face blank.
“Should I be worried about Naomi?” I ask finally, watching his face for any reaction.
Roman scoffs, shaking his head. “That‘s ridiculous. Why would you think that?”
“She told me to watch my back.”
He shrugs. “She’s dramatic. Likes to get under people’s skin.”
I look at him, really look at him, and for the first time, I see how tired he is. There are lines at the corners of his eyes, a kind of permanent tension in his shoulders. But I’m tired, too.
“You spend more time with her than you do with me,” I say. “And I think she’s trying to scare me off.”
He steps into the room, closer now. “Sunshine, that’s not—”
“Don’t,” I say. “Just… don’t.”
He stops, hands dropping to his sides. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to listen to me. To stop lying to me. To let me in for once.”
Roman finally sighs tiredly. “Naomi’s just… different, Kayla. She’s like that with everyone. She always has been.”
I stare at him, a hollow feeling spreading in my chest. Does he really believe that, or is he just unwilling to see the truth? Either option feels like a betrayal.
“Right,” I say quietly.
Roman turns to leave, clearly considering the conversation finished. But I’m not done.
“I think she’s watching me,” I say to his back.
He stops in the doorway, his shoulders tensing. “Why would you think that?”
“She knew I was at yoga yesterday.”
Roman turns back slowly. “It’s a small town, Sunshine. Everyone knows what everyone is doing.”
For the first time in our marriage, I hate the sound of that endearment from his lips.
“Okay,” I say simply, unsure how to convince him and too tired to continue arguing.