I Spy Something Christmas[ I Spy 3] by Josh Lanyon

Author:Josh Lanyon [Lanyon, Josh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00ASBPT16
Publisher: Just Joshin'
Published: 2012-12-21T11:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four T he whispered sound of the study door closing seemed to echo down the hall like the crack of doom.

In the kitchen, I heard Lena open the oven and noisily pull out a rack.

My upsurge of aggression drained away and I was left to wonder what the fucking hell was the matter with me? Of course Stephen had worried. His was the normal reaction.

I strode down the hall to his study, then hesitated. I seemed to be getting a fair number of doors closed in my face today, but I couldn’t remember Stephen ever shutting me out.

Maybe he meant it.

Forcing him to deal with me when he wasn’t ready could make everything that much worse. I’d negotiated enough deals in my time to know that better than anyone. But the idea of being shut out by Stephen was intolerable.

I opened the door.

He stood at the window staring out at the frozen lake and the magnolia trees with their snow blossoms. He didn’t turn, though he couldn’t have missed the door opening or Buck’s tail thumping in greeting.

“That wasn’t the right reaction,” I said.

Stephen continued to gaze out the window. “It was an honest one.”

“What I mean is, you put me on defense and I overreacted.”

“True. But that’s not the point, is it?”

I wasn’t sure what he meant. What was the point? For me the point was I shouldn’t have said what I said. “You were right. I was in the wrong. I apologize.”

He made a sound, a smothered sound, but of such pent up frustration that my heart froze. That level of irritation and exasperation wasn’t the result of one argument; it had built up over time. Was he ready to give up on us? Probably.

I said desperately, “I know I’m bad at this, Stephen.”

He turned then. He looked older, grimmer, as though he’d aged in the time it had taken to walk down the hall.

“Yes. You are. It’s not enough to acknowledge it, Mark. You have to make an effort to change.”

“I’m trying.”

“Are you? Is that what today was? You trying to turn over a new leaf?”

I hadn’t felt this panicked, this sick since the last time I’d returned from Afghanistan to realize that Stephen had stopped loving me, had moved on.

I tried to think of what to say, but I knew that anything I came up with would seem to him like I was trying to find excuses instead of taking responsibility. Or maybe taking responsibility was another thing that was beside the point. Not only did I not have the answer, I wasn’t sure of the question. What did he want? Whatever it was, I was more than willing to give it, if it was in my power. But it increasingly felt like trying to argue a court case in a language you had only the feeblest grasp of.

He continued to stare at me in that dark, measuring way.

I went on reviewing all the possible responses he might wish from me, but staring at his

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