Page 46 of Untying the Knot
I regret a lot of fucking things.
I open the fridge for the eggs to make some breakfast when I realize the fridge is empty besides a few yogurts I bought myself.
What the hell? There was food in here last night.
I shut the fridge door only to find Myla on the other side.
“Jesus,” I say. “Where’s all the food?”
“Oh, you mean the food I bought at the grocery store?” she asks, her arms folded, a tremble in her fingers.
“Yes, that food.”
“It’s in the garage fridge.”
“Why is it in there?” I ask.
“Because that’s my fridge.”
“What?”
She props one hand on her hip as she leans against the counter. “Well, I had an epiphany last night.” Her voice is shaky, but I sense an air of confidence too. “While I was making myself come in the shower after you left me hanging.” Fuck. The image of her in the shower, fucking herself, feels like a full-on technicolor re-enactment in my head. “Are you paying attention?”
“Yes,” I answer, my mind snapping back to her. “What was your epiphany?”
“Well, if you’re going to have demands, then I think it’s fair that I have mine as well.”
“You think giving me the respect of not fucking another man while your name is still attached to me is a demand? That’s just being courteous to your husband.”
She glances away for a moment and then quietly says, “The fact that you even have to question the intention behind Nichole’s presence here is insulting.” Her eyes flick up to mine. “I would never cheat on you, Ryot.”
Just like that, guilt consumes me because she’s right.
She’s shown me nothing but love and respect for our marriage.
An apology is on the tip of my tongue as she says, “Either way. We have a couple weeks together before the wedding, and it might be best if we lay down some ground rules so we don’t get in each other’s way.”
“Ground rules?” I ask. “Removing all the food from the fridge is your idea of ground rules?”
“It’s food that I bought. Therefore, I believe it should be in my fridge. Also, if you noticed, the food in the pantry with the pink Post-it notes on them is mine. It’s simple roommate protocol.”
Oh hell. I move toward the pantry, switch on the light, and lo and behold, the shelves are covered in food with pink Post-it notes . . . even the baking flour.
And then her words hit me. Roommates?
I swing back around to look at her. “Roommates? I don’t think so, Myla. You’re still my wife.”
She toes the ground, her confidence slipping in and out, and I can’t quite pinpoint where her head is right now. Is this her way of getting back at me for last night? What is this wall she’s erecting between us?
“Titles shouldn’t mean much at this point, Ryot.”
They mean something to me.
I exit the pantry, frustration starting to have a chokehold on me. “That’s fine. I’ll just order food.” I grab my phone and open my DoorDash app, but it’s asking me to sign in. “What’s the username and password?”
“I changed that last night.”
My eyes lift, and my brow raises in question. “What do you mean you changed it?”
