“Sure, sure.  I remember that squabble.”

“Squabble,” I repeat and run my hand over my hair.  “She knew I could handle it.”

Pops laughs at the thought.  A deep laugh, and then he leans back in his chair.

“You guys can handle that, then you guys can handle anything.”

“It feels different, Pops.”  I swallow and fight back the swell of emotion.  “This isn’t just a fight.”

“How would you know? You haven’t even really had a fight, have you?”

I stare at him blankly, knowing me and Kat haven’t ever gone at it before, not really.  A little bickering here or there, but this isn’t some argument over dishes.  This is worse than he can imagine, and I’m ashamed to speak that truth.

“Just get her something shiny.  Spoil the woman,” he says, throwing his hand up.

I let a trace of a smile linger on my lips as I picture handing Kat a bouquet of roses.  I’d pick the dark red ones, but make sure there’s some baby’s breath in the package too.  One of the large bouquets.  The ones that make you lean in and smell them.  Too good to resist.  That’s the kind I’d get her.

I can see her soft smile as she peeks up at me, holding it in both her hands.

A warmth settles through me.  I wish it were that easy.  I’d buy every flower I could if that were the case.

“Whatever you do,” Pops says, distracting me from the vision of Kat forgiving me, “just don’t give up.”

“I won’t,” I tell him and I damn well mean it.

Kat

My fingers relentlessly tap on my phone and my gaze drifts to the door. He’s coming. Soon.

Evan needs to get his things and get out. Mistake after mistake after mistake. That’s what this relationship has been. There’s undeniable love between us. I won’t argue with that. But some people aren’t meant to be together and at this point in my life, I should be concerned with having children and not the possibility of having to bail my husband out of jail.

There’s a bit of anger that’s carried me through the last two days. It’s what I focus on. It’s what gives me the strength to tell him I don’t want to be with him anymore. To tell him it doesn’t matter when he says he loves me.

I know it matters, and I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that I’ll always want him and have love for him. I’ll always want to feel loved like I did when we first got together.