Caught in the Middle

Chapter 26

Maya
I hate this!
I'm sorry for what I said and the way I said it. Can we please just talk about it?

I send the text, typing out a new one as soon as it shows to have been delivered, but refrain from sending it. I delete the apology I typed out and scroll up to see the numerous unread messages, over the last few days in my chat, with my rightfully angry wife. When I came back home after I left her fuming in our living room, to run away from the conflict I created between us, she was long gone and started ignoring me like the time we were separated. I didn't want to believe that my actions caused us to go through another separation, but it all felt too familiar.

"You promised me that whatever this is, it won't steal you away from me. So why do I feel more isolated than I did when you had your walls built into your clouds?" Carina slams my laptop closed, barely giving me enough time to save my fingers from being crushed. She stares me down, yet still somehow finding it in herself to stop her eyes from wandering to the papers in the binder I close, before placing it on top of the chrome computer. But that doesn't stop her from glowering down at me with fire in those amber eyes, making them appear like molten lava rocks.

I try to slide the barstool away from the kitchen island that divides the kitchen and living room, but my frustrated wife hinders my escape by caging me between her and the granite countertop. "What happened to 'You are still my priority'? Or were you just fooling both of us because I allowed you to feel me up just before you said it?" The fact that her voice is so controlled and low, devoid of anything but hurt, makes my stomach churn with unease. An angry Carina usually entails yelling, flailing of her arms and whispered Italian curses under her breath.

Carina being calm in her sadness was the exact thing that ripped my world to shreds when she turned on me in my hospital room, to tell me that she'd rather lose me than force herself to keep watching me ruin my own life. "Carina, babe. I get why you're mad, but I cancelled one date. You're still my priority, love, but I have a job to do too. I didn't blame you for having to run out of our last dinner because you got called in to help a patient." And just like that my calm and collected wife becomes the fiery Italian I know and love. I just wish her anger isn't directed at me.

"Se la cosa non ti dà fastidio, perché ne parli!? (If it doesn't bother you, why are you talking about it!?)" She throws her hands in the air and turn around with a puff of air, finally allowing me to get up and stop being looked down upon. I watch patiently as she starts pacing to the couch and back, over and over again until I try to intercept her, which turns out to be my next mistake. "Stop treating me like a child! It's patronizing." Carina slaps my hands away, which I raised as a way to show her that I won't touch her unless she gives me permission.

Why does it matter that it's a move I've used time and time again to calm Tono down when he threw a tantrum and didn't want to be touched? I roll my tongue between my teeth and bite down on the words that are threatening to push their way past my lips, just so I can keep the peace. If both of us allow our frustration and irritation to have control over this conversation, then I don't think either of will be going to sleep with the person we love tonight. Especially since the majority of the shimmer of irritation floating between us, stems from sexual frustration.

It's hard to believe that a month had passed since Antonio's birthday weekend, and for the first two weeks Carina and I had never felt more connected. Then all hell broke loose when Agent Tate called me in the middle of the night while I was crashing at her place, to hint at a building name and time I might be able to obtain evidence of the bomb Joseph built for his kidnappers. She turned colder than the Artic Ocean after I had to lie to her about who I was talking to and what it was about. Every time I tried to cuddle back into her, she would push me away and say that she was too hot.