“Don’t put words in my fuckin’ mouth, woman.” He runs his hand through his hair in frustration. I can’t do anything to fix this. To fix me. We both sit in silence looking at each other.

Broken.

Falling apart.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” I whisper. Communication was never this hard. The distance growing further between us as each day passes makes me afraid that this is what we’ve become.

“I just want to bring you happiness, baby,” he sighs, but before I can tell him I don’t think he can, Harlow’s cries come through the monitor. I move off the bed to go to her, knowing she will need to be fed.

“You walk out of this room, Kadence, you walk out on me.” His cold tone stops me from moving any further. It’s the same tone he used in the bathroom. “Leave her,” he commands, but the thought of continuing this conversation, where we tear each other down, has me fighting him.

“Nix, I have to check on her.” I continue to the door.

“Don’t you dare leave this fuckin’ room. I’m important too. I’m your fuckin’ husband. Do you hear me? We are important.” His hand sweeps across his nightstand, causing one big crash that sends everything tumbling to the floor. I’m frozen in place, my hand resting on the door handle. The room is silent. The shock of what has gone on tonight so raw I don’t think either of us knows how to process it.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” I repeat, closing my eyes when Harlow’s cries grow louder, sending my anxiety rising. Doesn’t he know he’s only making it worse?

“Jesus, I don’t know. Give me a look, smile at me…fuckin’ touch me. Give me a connection that says we’re on the same fuckin’ side. I can’t continue to stay in this place we are in. I’m drowning here, Kadence. We both are, and I just don’t know if I can keep treading water for both of us. You have to help me, baby. You have to want us to survive.” He falls to the bed, his head dropping to his hands. Seeing him like this, in this state makes me realize that our situation is bigger than me, than him. It’s bigger than either one of us realize.

“That’s not fair.” I release the handle and turn, collapsing against the wall. The wind knocks out of me as his words resonate within me. We are drowning and I have to stop fighting. At this realization, my knees become weak. Standing becomes too hard. I slide down the wall, dropping my ass to the carpet.

“Life isn’t fair, Kadence. I wish it was, but it just isn’t. Look where we both have come from; look where life has taken us. We won’t survive if you won’t talk to me, Kadence. Talk to someone.” He stands to come to me, but having him in my space only makes things worse.

“Please don’t.” I draw in a breath, defeated. His frustration and concerns only prove what a bad mother I’ve been, what a bad wife I’ve become.

“Don’t what, Kadence?  Don’t make me walk away. I want my wife back. I don’t know what’s happened, but I don’t like who you’ve become.” His voice is pained, as broken as my soul feels. His confession doesn’t surprise me, but it still burns. I know I don’t like who I’ve become. How do I expect Nix to like me?

“You don’t think I ask myself that question every day? That I don’t look at myself and ask what is wrong with me? I don’t know who I’ve become, Nix. All I know is I should. I should know who I am.” My head thuds against the wall in defeat. I can’t keep going on like this. I can hear Harlow’s cries quietening, as she resettles herself, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting out of this room.

“I know who you are, Kadence. You’re the woman I love. The most amazin’ mother to our daughter, our son.” Saying Z is my son pulls at me harder. The fact that he, too, is affected by what is happening hurts even more. Nix walks over and squats to my level, careful not to get into my space, but close enough for me to reach out and touch him if I wanted to.

“Why don’t I know that? I should know that Nix.”

“You don’t have to know. I know, the kids know and that’s enough.”

“It’s not enough for me.” My hand itches to touch him, to feel his hardness under my fingers, but sitting broken on the floor of our bedroom, I know I can’t. I can’t touch the man who means everything to me and I hate myself for it.

“When did you stop trustin’ yourself?”

“I don’t know. When did I stop being myself?” I counter, and my admission halts him for a moment. He crawls forward, coming closer into my space. His warmth, his calming presence wraps itself all over me.

“The first step is askin’ for help, baby. Let me help you. You don’t have to be alone. Let me learn to breathe the ugliness you see. Let me share the darkness, Kadence. Just don’t push me away.” His pleading pulls at me, pulls at the hatred that has settled inside.

“I’m not doing good, Nix,” I say, looking up and giving him what he needs. What I need. “Somewhere along the way, I woke completely lost and overwhelmed. And every day, it gets harder and harder to deal.” A sob tears from deep within me, and walls I’ve been hiding behind crumble down.

“I know, baby.” He pulls me into the hardness of his chest. “We’re gonna be okay,” he promises, and everything in me wants to believe him. Everything in me wants to trust he has me. That he has us. But the truth is, I’ve drowned in so much self-doubt and uneasiness, that trust seems so far away.