Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“The right thing to do?” I asked, a little taken aback. “What does that mean?”
“I thought we agreed that we’d maintain a united front for Jimmy.”
“Cordial parenting, yes, but we’re not exactly friends, Matt. It’s no longer my job to support you or your choices. It is certainly not my job to put your new wife at ease. You’ll need to handle that. I’d rather not get involved. I have my own life to look after.”
“Jacinta…” He did his famous huff, angry but too conditioned to show it. Instead he hid it in passive aggressiveness. “Why are you making this difficult?”
I sat forward, forgetting I still had my seatbelt on. It cut into me, yanking me to a stop. I hit the button to release myself before climbing out of the car, needing to pace.
“Matt, listen, you can invite me to the wedding. That’s fine. I’ll give you my boyfriend’s name to add to the invitation. Maybe I’ll go to the Christmas party if I am in the area and can fit it in. I’ll certainly try to make it to both, but I can’t make any promises. I have a lot going on here.”
“We have months yet before Christmas and longer still before a wedding ceremony,” he said. “Any plans you have can be moved to accommodate the events.”
I stilled, just barely restraining myself from pulling the phone from my ear and throwing it into the trees. How had I ever dealt with this me, me, me attitude, with the condescension and the arrogance and the complete disregard for anything I was saying?
“And no, we will not need your…boyfriend’s name,” he continued, humor evident in his tone. It was always about tone with this guy. Always. “A simple plus one will be fine. We all know how fickle you can be, Jacinta, and how tumultuous you can make even the simplest of situations, as in this case. Not everyone is as patient as I am, and even then, didn’t we find my limits?”
I stared at nothing in muted shock.
Had he really just blamed the failing of our marriage on me?
Had he seriously just painted himself as a saint for dealing with me all that time when I was the one who’d always bent over backwards to make sure he was happy? I was the one who had sacrificed my dreams and ambitions to create the nuclear family he’d always wanted. He’d always wanted, not me, with the dutiful wife who didn’t anger him or speak too loudly or step out of her lane. I’d become the wife and mother he’d wanted, squishing the fire within me to do so, and in the end, he’d shrugged me off. He’d changed me to his liking, and I still hadn’t been enough.
In times past, the command he’d just made would’ve crushed me. It would’ve brought all my insecurities raging to the surface, and I’d wonder if it really was my fault. If I was too hard to be around, too tumultuous, as he’d said, making life difficult for everyone.
Not this time. Not while still buzzing from battle.
If a woman sticking up for herself labeled her as tumultuous—as a problem—well, then…I was a fucking problem.
My hands started to shake. I struggled to control my anger.
“Did you seriously just say that to me, you ignorant prick?” I ground out.
The anger management wasn’t rock solid, that was for sure.
“Jacinta.” This time his tone was disapproving. “There is no reason to use that kind of language. I was simply looking out for your best interests. Your foul temper has gotten away from you again. I thought we’d eradicated that. It doesn’t befit a lady of your stature.”
I huffed in derision.
A lady of my stature.
He should hear what Niamh thought a lady was. What Ivy House did. It certainly wasn’t someone who let assholes treat them like a doormat.
This is what he did, though. This was his playbook. He did something to anger or hurt me, or completely disregarded my wants and needs, and when I got upset about it, he played it off like it was my fault.
The dig about stature was a bonus. It was his way of reminding me that I was lower on the social ladder than he was. That I’d come from less, had less, was less.
Frustrated tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to throw the phone so badly my arm shook. Specifically, I wanted to throw it at him. Right between the eyes.
“Matt, let’s get one thing clear. I don’t care about supporting you, or helping you. As I said—“ He started to cut me off. “Don’t you dare speak over me,” I commanded, an edge to my voice. “As I said, I’ll attend if I can make it work. But listen to me very carefully when I say this—”
The dead space was a little too dead. Years of experience had me pulling the phone away and looking at it. Home screen. He’d hung up on me, probably when I told him not to speak over me.