4. Jane

CHAPTER4

JANE

It feels as if I’ve been holding my breath for the last seven years. Ever since he texted me the other day, I’ve been in a tizzy. I knew he’d talked about retiring, but I didn’t believe he’d do it. He called me an hour ago to let me know he was almost here, and I’ve played out every scenario. I’ve considered playing it cool by staying inside and hiding my emotions. I thought about leaving so he could come in and get settled on his own before I came home. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to do either of those things.

There’s no way I’ll be able to contain my emotions, and it would take a bomb to root me out of here right now. I stand on the porch and lean against the column as I wait for him to turn down our road.

When I see the headlights, I stand up straighter and stare without blinking, waiting to see if it’s Grant finally getting home.

When he slows down and pulls into the driveway, there’s no holding back.

I jump off the porch, bypassing the stairs, and run to the truck. He stops and opens the door, getting out as I get to where he’s parked.

We stand here, staring at each other, and his gaze travels the length of my body before finally stopping on my face. I’ve imagined this moment for years now and played it out in my head over and over, but I wasn’t prepared for the emotions that would hit me.

He has a few days of scruff on his chin, and he looks tired, but the fact that he’s standing in front of me instead of on the phone hits me hard. I put my hands to my face and burst into tears. Once the sobbing starts, I can’t stop it.

His hands go to my shoulders. “Jane, baby. What’s wrong? It’s okay… talk to me.”

The more Grant tries to soothe me, the harder I cry. He circles his arms around me and holds me against his body. My heart’s racing because I’ve wanted to be in his arms just like this since the day I met him. In all that time, I didn’t think I’d be uncontrollably crying.

He gathers me in his arms, and when my feet come off the ground, I gasp. “Grant… what are you doing? I’m too big.”

He doesn’t put me down. If anything, he holds me tighter as he kicks his car door closed and then carries me toward the house, up the steps, and stops at the front door. “Get the door, honey.”

I reach over and open the door, and he walks into the house. He kicks the door closed and then carries me to the living room. Instead of setting me on the couch, he sits down, keeping me on his lap.

“Talk to me. Tell me why you’re crying.”

I sniffle and shake my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve thought about this moment forever, but I never thought I would fall apart. Here, I’ll get up.”

I start to move, but he holds on to me. “Stay.” As soon as he says it, he lifts his hands up, and I miss them instantly. “Sorry, you can get up.”

Unsure what to do, I stand up from his lap and move to sit next to him. An awkward silence comes over us, and I shake my head. It’s been less than five minutes and I’ve already messed up his homecoming.

Before I can apologize for my actions, he’s on his feet. “Uh, I’m going to go grab my bag.”

I jump up. “I’ll help you.”

He puts a hand out to stop me. “No, I got it. I’ll be right back.”

I watch him go, and panic starts to set in. I knew it would be weird, but I wasn’t expecting this. It’s like we’re strangers instead of husband and wife. And even though we haven’t been face to face, we do talk all the time on the phone. Even if it’s just about the house or other mundane things, we still talk.

When he walks in, he drops his bag next to the front door, and I walk up to him. “Can we start over?”

He wipes his hands down his thighs. “Yeah, sounds good.”

I hold my arms open. “Welcome home.”

He looks at me, and with a controlled smile, he nods his head. “Thank you.”

I let my arms drop awkwardly to my sides. This is not going well at all, and I’m not sure why. On the phone, he’s always affectionate and attentive, and he seems to be holding back now. I’m not sure what to make of it, but I’m not giving up. “Are you doing okay? How was your trip?”

He looks agitated as he runs his hands through his hair. “It was good. I’m a little tired.”

I clap my hands together. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I bet you are tired. I made up the big bedroom for you.”

His eyebrows rise in surprise. “But I thought you were sleeping in that room.”

His nose is scrunched up as if sleeping in the same room as me disgusts him or something. I stutter over my words. “Uh, yeah, well, I was, but I moved all my things to the smaller room upstairs.”

He blows out a breath and doesn’t try to hide his disappointment. “You didn’t have to do that, Jane. I’ve been sleeping on a cot for as long as I can remember. I would have been fine in a smaller room.”

I grab his bag and pick it up before he can stop me. “I’ll put this in your room. I know you’ve seen all the changes to the house when we’ve video chatted on the phone, but I wanted to surprise you with your room. I hope you love it, but I can change anything.”

I keep rambling as I walk down the hallway to the bedroom. It takes a minute for Grant to follow me, and I try to catch my breath and get ahold of my emotions. I stand in the room and wait for him as he enters and looks around. I expected him to be excited, but his voice is still controlled as he looks around. There’s no hint of emotion, and when he doesn’t even smile, I assure him again, “Really, I can change all of it.”

He stops across the room from me. It almost feels like he can’t put enough distance between us. “It’s great, Jane. I love it.”

I drop his bag to the floor and try to keep my patience. As I cross my arms over my chest, I bring up the one thing I’ve been thinking about but was hoping it wouldn’t come to it. “So, uh, a friend of mine said there’s an open apartment in her building. I have money saved up and—”

He cuts me off. “This is your house, Jane. You’re not leaving.”

“But…” I start.

But he doesn’t let me say anything else. For the first time since he got here, he’s showing some emotion, and unfortunately, it’s anger. “You’re not leaving your home, Jane. I won’t hear of it. If you’re uncomfortable with sharing a house with me, I’ll leave.”

It’s my turn to be upset. “This is your house, Grant.”

He blows out a breath and crams his hand through his hair. “It’s our house. Look, I know this is awkward, but let’s agree to not make any sudden decisions, okay? No one’s leaving.”

I start to fiddle with the ring on my finger. “You’re right. We shouldn’t make any decisions right now. I should let you rest. Are you hungry? Can I bring you a sandwich or anything?”

Instead of answering me, he points at my finger. “You’re still wearing your ring.”

I look at my hand and hold it up. “You mean my wedding ring? Of course, I’m still wearing it.”

He takes a step toward me. “So you’ve worn it the last seven years?”

He’s staring at me as if he’s anxious to hear my answer. “Of course. Since the day you put it on my finger, I’ve worn it. Well, except the time I hit my hand with a hammer and it was starting to swell so I took it off, but that was just for a few days.”

By the time I’ve finished talking, Grant has moved toward me and grabbed my hand and is now holding it up to inspect it. He strokes his finger along it and stares at my ring, and that’s when I notice it. I don’t even try to hold back my gasp. “You uh, you have your ring on too.”

He nods his head. “Yeah, I haven’t taken it off either. Can I ask you something, Jane?”

I nod my head, and he asks something I never thought my husband would ask me. “Have you been dating?”

I jerk my hand away from him and step back. Stunned, I shake my head. “Really? I know we don’t know each other well, but surely you know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t cheat on you. You’re my husband…”

When my voice trails off, he holds his hands up. “I know. I know. But this really isn’t a conventional marriage, and it’s been seven years. I just thought…”

Pain like nothing I’ve felt before crushes in my chest. “Wait… so you’re saying...”

I stop, clutch my hand to my chest, and start to walk toward the bedroom door. I know I’m being ridiculous. He’s right. We’ve been married seven years, and besides the brief kiss he gave me in front of the justice of the peace, we’ve had literally no intimacy whatsoever. I can’t hide the hurt, so walking away is the only option. I was a fool.

“Jane, stop. Where are you going?”

Without looking at him, I say, “I’m going to let you rest.”

His hand goes to my shoulder, and he stops me from leaving. “Look at me.”