Ninety-Nine Apologies

Melody Harper froze in place, but her chest still heaved with anger.

Her question landed like a punch against a pillow.

When she said nothing more, I ignored her and picked up the dress she had taken off. "It's all wrinkled. I'll iron it for you."

"Anthony Sorloth!" she called after me, unable to hide the irritation in her voice. "What do you actually want? Would you stop acting crazy? Do you have any idea how much those posts of yours have hurt me? I'm a person too. I get tired too!"

My hands went still, and my breathing quickened. "Are you worried about yourself, or about Terrence Layne?"

The name hit like a thunderclap and tore open the rift between us.

"Why are you bringing up Terrence again? I transferred him to another team ages ago and cut off all contact. You know that, don't you? Is turning all of us into lunatics like you the only thing that will make you happy?"

Her voice rose sharply, but the moment she saw how haggard I looked, she faltered. Her anger seemed to drain away.

She softened her tone and pulled me into a hug, guilt written across her face. "I'm sorry, honey. I shouldn't have snapped at you. You know how it is.

"Being pregnant makes it hard for me to control my emotions. I got carried away. I'll buy you a new computer tomorrow."

I recoiled from her touch as if I had brushed against a live wire.

I gripped the doorframe and retched again and again. "Don't touch me. You're filthy..."

Melody's expression darkened. Her eyes reddened, and her voice trembled. "You think I'm filthy?"

She gave me no chance to respond. She grabbed my hand, pinned me against the door, and undid my pants.

Then she rose onto her toes and bit my lip. "The doctor said the last three months are fine. Tony, let's—"

"Don't touch me! It's disgusting!" I shoved her away with all my strength and crouched on the floor.

I scrubbed frantically at every patch of skin she had touched and did not stop even when it turned red and began to sting.

The sound of my retching filled the room. "It's too filthy. I need to shower..."

Behind me, Melody screamed until her voice went hoarse, "Anthony! Do you hate me that much? What do I have to do for you to forgive me?"

I rushed into the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the cold water pour over me.

The door slammed hard enough to rattle the room.

I raised my head and stared into the mirror. Tear tracks streaked my pale face.

Emotion overwhelmed me all at once. I pressed a hand to my chest and sobbed so hard I could barely breathe.

I never imagined we would go from a young couple who took such pride in each other to two people who could barely stand the sight of one another.

There had been a time when we could not bear to be apart for even a moment. Now, a single touch was enough to fill me with disgust.

I could not forget what had happened. I had tried. I wanted to forget. I wanted to be a forgiving husband.

However, I could never get past the fact that she had gotten involved with a student I sponsored while she was pregnant.

Even on the day of my father's funeral, they had done those things in our marital bed.

My stomach cramped from the stress, as though a knife were twisting through my insides.

How could she act as though nothing had happened? How could she be so at ease when I could not do the same?

A long time passed before I finally stumbled out of the bathroom.

The house had fallen completely silent.

Melody sat on the couch, her eyes red-rimmed. "I'm sorry. I lost my head tonight. It's all my fault. I won't do it again—"

"It doesn't matter," I cut in. "That's your business."

Without waiting for her response, I turned and went back to the bedroom.

I lay on the bed and thought of her round belly. Tears soaked into the pillow.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Daddy scared you again when he lost his temper," I muttered.

My heavy eyelids slowly closed, and my mind replayed the same thought over and over: what would happen 100 days from now.

Once the child was born, I would finally be free.