Sisters by Choice (Blackberry Island #4)(89)

“You are the dumbest of the dumb,” she said, pouring them each a shot.

“I’m not. I want her to stop what she’s doing.” He swallowed the drink, then sprinkled salt on his hand and licked it off before sucking on a wedge of lime.

“So she can what? Sit home waiting for you? The boys are growing up. She needs something else in her life and you know it. Her business idea is sound, the start-up costs are low and the chance for success is excellent. What’s your problem?”

He averted his gaze. “I don’t like it.”

“So I’ve gathered, but why? What’s the big deal? Come on, Jaxsen, tell me the actual problem. Do you really want to be the kind of man who feels the need to lock his wife in a cage?”

She drank her shot. The liquid burned her throat. She followed with salt and lime, then went back to glaring at him.

“You’re really going about this all wrong,” she continued when he didn’t answer her. “She is a terrific mother, a great wife. She treats you way better than you deserve and you walked out on her.”

His expression got even more stubborn, which was hard to believe. Honestly, he was so annoying. Even so, she recognized that she wasn’t getting through to him and decided to try a different tactic.

“Remember when we were in high school?” she asked. “Remember how frustrated you used to get with your parents? You didn’t like how your dad treated your mom and you didn’t like how she took it. You wanted her to stand up for herself. You wanted your dad to remember what century it was.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

He took another shot. “It just is.”

“Jaxsen! Come on. I’m being serious.” She reached across the table and touched his arm. “You love her. I know you do.”

“Loving her isn’t the problem. Of course I love her, but she can’t do this.”

“You know it’s too late, right? She’s already signed the lease.”

“The boys told me.” His gaze hardened. “It’s not my problem. She’ll have to figure a way out of it.”

“Jeez. Who are you? Do you understand you’re asking her to choose between you and a dream she’s had for years? You’re telling her the price of staying married to you is to give up growing as a human being. You’re telling her you’re going to make all the decisions in her life—that you don’t trust her. That she never gets to have what she wants. What’s next? Are you going to lock her in the house? Start hitting her? Will that make you feel like a man?”

He flinched. “That’s not fair. I would never hit her.”

“Abuse comes in all forms, Jaxsen. You should think about that.” She stood. “I really thought I knew you. I thought you were just scared of I don’t know what, but that you would come around. I told her to hang on to you and your marriage. I told her you were worth it, but I was wrong. You’re not and honest to God, she’s better off without you.”

The color drained out of his face. “Is that really what you think?”

“It is now.”

He rose and glared at her. “You don’t know anything.”

“Neither do you. The difference is you’re going to lose Kristine over what you don’t know.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it and stalked out of the house.



Chapter Twenty-Four


Heather tried to convince herself she wasn’t going to die. Whatever she’d eaten would eventually work itself through her body, but until then, she wasn’t sure how many more times she could throw up.

The sense of something being wrong had come on so suddenly, she’d barely had time to make it to the bathroom at work before puking out her guts. Elliot had walked by her as she’d staggered out of the bathroom, only to have to turn around and race back inside to throw up again. When she’d managed to stand up and consider maybe splashing water on her face, Office Manager Tina had been waiting for her.

“I already have your handbag,” the other woman had said kindly. “You’re going to leave your bike here and I’m driving you home. You need to be in bed. Do you have something like ginger ale to help settle your stomach? Plain crackers would help, as well.”

Heather nodded, sure there was some kind of sweet, carbonated something in the pantry. And crackers. Not that she could ever imagine eating or drinking again. She really just wanted to lie down and if it was her time to go, then that was fine with her.

Tina helped her out to her car, then put a small plastic trash can in by her feet. “Just in case. Don’t worry about grossing me out. I have children. I’ve seen it all.”

“Thank you,” Heather managed, rolling down the window and letting the cool morning breeze blow over her face.

“You look terrible.”

“That’s good. I feel terrible.” The combination of cramping and writhing in her stomach and the general shakiness had her wishing she were already in her own bed.

The drive took less than ten minutes. Heather managed not to throw up even once—an accomplishment. Once Tina pulled into the driveway next to a large van, Heather dragged herself out of the car.

“I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Tina shook her head. “We have a very detailed policy. You are not to come back to work until you’ve gone at least twenty-four hours without a fever or vomiting. Don’t make me use my stern voice on you. It’s not something you’ll enjoy.”