Heat To Obsession by Nolon King

Author:Nolon King [King, Nolon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sterling & Stone

I shouldn’t have stopped at the restaurant.

It threw everything off, starting with my schedule and ending with my mood.

The visit ripped me up inside. Shredded cabbage in fermented sauces.

I felt worthless, unappreciated, and vulnerable — three emotions that brunoised my heart and soul, cutting both into julienned strips before finishing the destruction with the finest dice. I stayed in the car forty minutes longer than I should have, driving out to Longfellow Passing and back, to feel the bend in the road underneath me, the hard BUMP! after that scary steep dip before the sloping Pacific. It was the only way to clear my head enough to smile when I got home.

But my face didn’t matter. Mike was still furious.

Not mad, furious.

Yes, I was too late to go out for ice cream as planned, and yes, I forgot about the promise altogether. Either one would have made him angry. Mike was over the edge because I didn’t even call. I’d been home for six minutes. For five and a half of them, we’d been standing in the kitchen arguing.

“I’m really, really sorry.”

“Except that you’re not, Amanda. This is a regular thing.”

“Stop saying that! I don’t deserve it.” I shook my head, not sure if I’d ever tried harder to stop myself from crying. The day — the week — was really piling on. “You can’t spend a year telling me that I’m getting better then take that all away from me now.”

But he went ahead and did it anyway. “Maybe not, but why don’t I tell you a story and we can decide together. I’ll tell you about the time you forgot you promised your daughter ice cream as an apology after screaming at her, then ignoring her, so that when you didn’t show up and we went anyway, Chelsea wouldn’t eat a bite. She cried instead. The entire time. David got a real kick out of it.”

“Enough with the sarcasm.”

“Would you rather I was yelling at you?”

“Those are my two choices? Your night sounds awful, and I’m sorry I caused that. Truly. But I don’t want to fight. Let me say goodnight to the kids, then we can talk.”

“No,” Mike said, his voice chilled. “They’re in bed, asleep. I won’t be happy if you wake them.”

“You’re not happy now.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

“I already said that.”

He pointed to a bag on the counter. “I brought you dinner.”

“Brought or bought?”

“Is that diva for thank you?”

I ignored him and looked in the bag. A burger from The Better Burger Company. I’m sure it would've been delicious if I wasn't sick to my stomach. “Thanks,” I muttered as I put the bag into the fridge.

“I don’t know why I ever bother to bring you anything. You can fucking cook for yourself.”

“You don’t need to swear at me, Mike.”

“You don’t need to swear at every person who has ever worked for you, but that’s never stopped you.”

“You’re not in the kitchen with me.”

“Do I need to be?”

“They’re employees. We’re married.”

“Oh. Got it. So that means that we shouldn’t swear at each other?” He scrunched his face.

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