upward standing on my tip toes and try to screw the light bulb into the socket. Just a little mo–
Suddenly, the chair teeters and my balance is thrown backward as it slides out from underneath my feet. I try to grab on as I begin to fall, but it’s just beyond my reach. I’m so screwed.
Just as I anticipate hitting the floor, a set of large familiar arms break my fall, catching me mid-flail. Realizing that he’s there, I throw my arms around his neck and let out a cry, both from fear and relief. I’m shaking so badly, I can barely keep my arms secured around him. After a long while, I manage to finally speak. “I’m alright, Blake. You can put me down.” I stick my nose in his neck and take a long whiff, his scent calming me instantly.
Once he sets me on my feet, I release my death grip and step back to look at my knight in shining armor. One look at his face tells me the only thing I need to know. He is definitely not pleased.
“Goddamn it, Alex! What the hell were you doing up there? You could’ve killed yourself! Jesus Christ!” he shouts, blue veins raised everywhere from the top of his forehead clear down to his neck.
I step back because I have never in my life seen him this angry. Ever. The puppy argument had nothing on this.
“I was…um, I…” I stumble over my words. “The light was, um, burned out. So, I was changing it?” I ask, hoping he finds my answer acceptable. I watch the puppy scamper out from underneath the couch and hightail it to, I’m assuming, his crate in the kitchen. As he runs to safety, I find myself second guessing my explanation.
“Wrong. Answer.” He turns and starts pacing wildly around the living room.
With him a little further away, I feel more comfortable speaking out loud. “I didn’t want to ask you for he—”
“You NEVER ask me for help!” he roars, throwing his hands in the air. He turns to me, his face so contorted with anger that I have no choice but to back up into the wall directly behind me.
“You don’t need me! You never need me! I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing here!” He swipes his arm across the end table, taking out our brand new lamp. As it crashes to the ground, and breaks into a million pieces, I can’t help but think of how perfectly metaphorical that is for our relationship right about now.
“ Your girls! Your house! Your baby! What happened to our life, Alex? Those are supposed to be our girls! This is supposed to be our house! You are carrying our son!” I flinch at his words, not because he’s yelling, but because they pierce my heart.
I continue to watch him from a distance, walking back and forth, reeling over whatever’s going on in his mind. I don’t dare speak. I just watch as the anger works its way through his mind and body.
After a long while, he seems to finally calm down a bit and stops pacing, ending up at the window. Pressing his forearm against the pane, he leans in and blankly stares at the swing set in our backyard.
“We’re supposed to be partners in this, Alex, but instead, we’re two strangers, living two separate lives, inhabiting the same living space. I sold my house and bought a new one with you, and while it’s technically our house, it’s still only your home. I have absolutely no say so in anything, including the baby’s room. Even when it comes to the girls, when I try to help you raise them as I should be doing, you won’t let me.” He shakes his head, defeated. “Hell, I can’t even help you screw in a goddamn light bulb.”
He turns to face me, hurt and pain etched into his features. Obviously frustrated, he raises his hands to his face, and after scrubbing it fiercely, rakes them through his hair. He takes a small step towards me, most likely testing my fight or flight response. When I stay in place, he continues, moving towards me while he speaks.
“You know, when you came to Colorado, I was so happy. That was one of the best days of my life because after what seemed
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