Chapter 2The Day I Gave Up on Us

Brandon texted me. [Are you mad at me?]

I had no idea what he was talking about.

[Then why didn't you make breakfast?]

Ever since we got married, I made breakfast every morning before work. I even kept doing it during the ten days we weren't speaking, though he didn't touch it once.

That morning, with my head pounding, I honestly forgot. Still, the way he acted like making him breakfast was automatically my responsibility made me frown.

I replied, [I forgot. Just grab something on your way to work.]

The rest of the day was so busy that I barely looked at my phone.

It wasn't until I was getting ready to leave the office that I saw another text from Brandon.

[I'll pick you up after work.]

I didn't make a big deal out of it and agreed. After waiting outside for half an hour, there was still no sign of his car.

Then my phone rang. It was Brandon. "Are you outside yet?"

I glanced around. "I'm in front of the building. I don't see you."

On the other end, Brandon let out a slow breath.

I knew that reaction well. Whenever he got tired of waiting for me in the past, he would take a deep breath like he was trying to keep himself from getting annoyed.

He was probably still trying to make up for yesterday, because instead of snapping at me, he kept his voice under control and asked, "Did your building change entrances or something?"

A thought suddenly occurred to me. "Are you at the Fairmont Building?"

His voice immediately rose, as if I had insulted him. "Of course I am. You think I don't know where you work?"

He didn't, actually.

Our company had moved to a different office building two blocks away from Fairmont last year.

I sent him the new address the day we moved, but somehow, a year later, he still went to the wrong building.

"I'll just get home on my own. There are a bunch of one-way streets around here, so getting over to me will be a hassle," I said.

Brandon went quiet for a moment, then hung up.

By the time I got home, he was already sitting on the couch.

That alone felt strange. Ever since we got married, I was almost always the one who got home first, made dinner, and waited for him.

More often than not, the food would be cold by the time he finally walked through the door.

Whenever that happened, I would complain that the least he could do was text me if he was going to be late.

He would always look at me like I was being unreasonable. "Do you expect my entire life to revolve around you? Can't you just eat without me?"

"But dinner's already cold..."

"Then throw it out. Do you really have to turn something this small into an argument?"

After that, I stopped bringing it up. I just started setting his dinner aside for him before I ate. Then, I would have dinner by myself and wait for him in the living room.

The moment I walked in that evening, Brandon surprised me by coming over to greet me.

He stayed close as I took off my coat. "I've just been really busy lately. I wasn't thinking. I didn't go to the wrong building on purpose."

"It's fine," I said.

He watched my face for a moment.

"And about yesterday, it was late and pouring. Stella lives pretty far away, so I gave her a ride home. Then one of the lights in her apartment went out, so I stayed and fixed it for her."

I nodded calmly. "Okay."

"Are you mad at me?"

I looked up at him, genuinely confused. "No."

The moment he realized I meant it, the careful look on his face disappeared and was replaced by irritation.

"You are mad. I already explained everything, and you're still acting like this. You didn't even make breakfast this morning, and now you're barely talking to me!"

That was when it hit me.

In the past, everything that had happened over the last two days would've been more than enough to make me lose it.

We'd had scenes like that plenty of times over the past four years. Every time, Brandon would just stand there and watch me fall apart, as if my anger had nothing to do with him.

Looking back, I must've seemed pathetic. No wonder he started coming home less and less.

But this time, I really wasn't angry. I had forced myself through an entire workday while sick, and I was exhausted.

"If that's all, I'm going to take a shower."

He stepped closer and held my wrist. "I'll join you."

"No. I have a cold, and I feel awful."

I pulled my hand away and went straight into the bathroom.