I’d married her planning on forever, and that hadn’t changed for me. I didn’t for a second wonder if we would get divorced, because I didn’t consider it an option. We’d promised to stick it out through the good and the bad, and right now was really bad. We just had to get through it.

I wondered if Sarai felt the same way, though. She didn’t even seem to like me anymore, much less love me the way I loved her. The thought made nausea pool in my gut.

“We’re making good time,” I said as the light started to fade. We were almost to the hotel I’d planned on staying at. “Do you want to stop for the night, or should we keep driving?”

“Didn’t you make a hotel reservation?” she asked, turning her head to look at me. It was the first time she’d even acknowledged me in hours.

“That doesn’t mean we have to stay there,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows. “We can go where the wind takes us.”

“We should probably follow the schedule,” she said, looking out the windshield again.

“Schedule smedule,” I replied. “This is a road trip. We make the rules.”

“I say we stop where you made the reservation,” she said flatly.

“Oh, come on,” I teased. “It’s barely dark yet.”

“If you plan for something,” she snapped, losing her temper, “then you should follow the plan! That’s what plans are for. You follow them so you know what you’re doing. Why even make a plan if you aren’t going to follow it? That’s just stupid!”

My eyes widened in surprise.

“Sarai,” I said, completely confused. “It’s a crappy motel reservation. They don’t care if we stop or not.”

“I care,” she yelled, making me jerk. “I care that we follow the fucking plan.”

“What the hell?” I replied, glancing over at her in disbelief. “What’s your deal?”

“Some of us make plans for a reason, Alex,” she hissed. “Some of us make plans because we like knowing what’s next. We like knowing where we’re going to sleep that night. We like knowing when we’ll be to our destination.”

“We’ll stop,” I conceded, raising one hand in surrender, trying to calm her down. “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”

“Of course you didn’t,” she ground out. “Because you just do whatever you want and everyone just has to go along with you. You don’t care about how anyone else feels.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, flipping on my blinker so I could take the next exit.

“No, I’m serious,” she said derisively. “You’re the one who likes to make jokes.”

I pulled off the freeway and stopped in a gravel parking lot set up for big rigs. I threw the truck in park and spun to face her.