He shakes his head, finally dropping his arms to the table. “No. I think you don’t get it, and I don’t know how to make you get it. Whatever Naomi and I did has nothing to do with you.”
“I’m your wife, Roman,” I say, hating the way my voice trembles slightly. “How can we build a life together when half of you is locked away where I can’t reach it?”
“That’s how it has to be.” His eyes soften slightly, but his tone remains firm. “Some parts aren’t for sharing.”
“Except with Naomi, apparently,” I mutter, dropping my gaze to my plate.
I hear him inhale sharply, but he doesn’t respond. He eats the rest of his breakfast in silence. When he’s finished, he shoves back from the table and drops his plate in the sink before disappearing upstairs. I scrape my own untouched plate into the trash before dropping it into the sink as well. When Roman reappears a few minutes later, I’m leaning back against the counter, sipping another cup of coffee and staring blankly out the window. He’s now wearing a tight black t-shirt and his leather cut, and his hair is neatly combed. He’s clearly already mentally out the door.
Yet, he lingers by the entryway, keys in his hand. “I don’t want to be an asshole, Kayla.”
I put down my coffee cup and turn to look at him, arms crossed. “Then stop acting like one.”
He sighs, running a hand over his beard. “There’s a lot of darkness in my life. More than you know. You’re the one thing that makes it worth it. My ray of fucking sunshine, even when you’re pissed off at me.”
“I’m tired of being shut out, of other people knowing more about what it is you do every day than I do,” I say. “I want to be part of your whole life. Not just the nice parts.”
He steps closer, just enough to brush a knuckle along my cheek. His hand is rough and warm. “Sometimes that’s not possible.”
I meet his gaze, refusing to look away. “Find a way to make it possible.”
He bends and presses his mouth to my forehead, the gesture unexpectedly tender. “I’ll see you tonight.”
He leaves without another word. I stand in the kitchen until I hear the motorcycle start and then fade into the distance. The house is now so quiet, I can hear my own heart pounding. I look around our sunny kitchen and think of the life we’ve built together. It all suddenly feels like a stage set, a pretty façade hiding the ugly truth — my husband lives in a world I’m not allowed to enter, and I’m running out of patience waiting for an invitation. I’ve always known there were things he didn’t, couldn’t tell me. I’ve always accepted this. It was my compromise.
But last night reminded me that he’s not alone in that world that he shuts me out of. There are others there with him, others who know my husband better than I do, who are the ones who get to stand with him, who get to be his true partners, who share a bond with him that I will never understand. Others like Naomi. And now I’m wondering how long I can accept that.
“Find a way, Roman.” I whisper to his ghost, still lingering in the kitchen. “Or I’ll have to find my own.”
3
Chapter 3
Kayla
The lunch crowd at The Sandwich Tree is loud enough to make conversation a challenge, but Morgan doesn’t seem to notice. She gestures excitedly as she talks about my upcoming date with Roman this weekend, nearly knocking over her drink. The small shooting star tattooed on her left cheek crinkles as she grins at me across the table.
“I still can’t believe you got Roman to agree to wear a suit,” Morgan says, shaking her head. “Are we sure he’s not just going to turn up in a suit jacket over his usual jeans and boots? Because, babe, I saw the man in what he considers to be formal wear at your wedding. He’s not exactly Don Draper.”
“He said he would,” I say, sounding more optimistic than I feel. “And anyway, I bribed him with the promise of dessert if he actually wears the whole thing. Including the tie.”
Morgan laughs. “God, I would pay good money to see that. Roman Sullivan in a suit must be like… illegal levels of hot.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “I’ll take a picture for you.”
“You’d better.” She tips her cup slightly towards me before taking a sip. “I need it for science.”
I take a small bite of my own sandwich, but I’m not truly hungry. I can’t stop thinking about the upcoming weekend. After the disaster that was the last club party and what happened the morning after, I decided that if our marriage was going to last, Roman needed to start meeting me halfway too. This date is an attempt at that. If he’s going to expect me to make an effort to be part of his world, part of the club, he can occasionally wear a suit and be part of my world too. It made sense at the time. I just wanted us to feel like a normal couple for once. But now I wonder if it will be enough. If I’m just focusing on the externals and avoiding addressing the deeper issues in my marriage.
“You realize if his brothers in the club see him, they will never let him live it down,” Morgan is saying, but she stops when she sees my expression. “Hey, you okay?” She asks, her voice softening.
“Just tired,” I lie, taking a sip of water. “Work’s been crazy.”
Morgan snorts. “Kayla, we work at the same place, and just yesterday Gia was talking about closing for the season a week early because it’s been so dead. Is this whole thing about what happened with the club? Because I can help you throw a brick through Naomi’s window if she’s still giving you problems.”
I manage a weak smile. Morgan knows me too well; we’ve been friends since I first moved to Redbird and started at Pine Ridge Landscaping. She was the first person to invite me for drinks after work, the first real friend I made here. She was also one of the few people who didn’t change how they treated me after I started dating Roman. She’s one of the few in town who aren’t intimidated by the Rejects.
“The club would kill you,” I tell her, “and don’t think I could protect you because, aside from Roman, none of them seem to like me very much.”