Chapter 8: The Truth Behind His Anger
Alexa followed Pascal into the kitchen.
He stood at the island with his back to her, pouring coffee into a mug. Sunlight stretched across the marble countertop, illuminating the small scratches on the surface and the water droplets beside the sink.
It was the same kitchen where they had planned vacations, celebrated promotions, and talked about the future.
Now it felt like a courtroom.
“Will you please sit down and talk to me?”” she asked.
Pascal set the coffee pot down.
“I'm listening.””
“No, you're waiting for your turn to tell me I'm wrong.””
He turned toward her.
“What do you want me to say, Alexa?””
“The truth.””
He gave a short laugh.
“You want the truth? Fine. I'm tired of feeling like I come second in my own marriage.””
Alexa's expression softened slightly.
“Then tell me when you've felt that way. Tell me what has hurt you. I'll listen.””
“Now you want to listen?””
“I've always wanted to listen.””
“Really? Because every time I bring up Noah, you defend him before you even ask what I'm trying to say.””
She took a breath.
“Maybe that's because you don't bring him up to tell me how you feel. You bring him up to accuse me of something.””
“Because your relationship with him isn't normal.””
Alexa stared at him.
“What does that even mean?””
“You call him at all hours. He calls you when he needs something. You drop everything for him. And now you expect me to believe that there is absolutely nothing complicated about the two of you.””
“There's nothing romantic between us.””
“You keep saying that.””
“Because it's true!””
Pascal slapped his palm against the countertop.
“Then why can't you understand what this looks like to me?””
Alexa flinched, then steadied herself.
“Because what it looks like to you isn't necessarily what it is.””
He looked away.
For a moment, the anger seemed to recede, revealing something raw beneath it.
“You don't know what it's like,” he said quietly.
Alexa waited.
“To feel like you're the only person in the room who doesn't understand what's happening.””
She frowned.
“What are you talking about?””
Pascal shook his head, his jaw working.
“Forget it.””
“No. You brought it up. Tell me.””
He stared into his coffee.
“When we first got married, I thought I was enough for you.””
The words were so different from his earlier accusations that Alexa didn't know how to respond.
“Pascal, you are enough for me.””
“Then why does it never feel that way?””
She stepped closer.
“Because you keep measuring my love for you against my love for everybody else.””
He looked up sharply.
“That's easy for you to say.””
“It's the truth.””
He set the mug down with unnecessary force.
“My father used to tell my mother that she was the most important woman in his life. He'd buy her flowers, take her out, tell her everything she wanted to hear. And then she'd find out he'd been lying to her.””
Alexa's anger paused.
She knew some of Pascal's childhood history. His father had left when Pascal was a teenager, and the separation had been bitter. Pascal rarely spoke about it, and when he did, he reduced years of pain to a few sentences.
But she had never heard him connect that history to their marriage.
“I'm sorry,” she said softly.
He shook his head.
“You don't understand. My mother kept believing him. She kept forgiving him because she thought love meant giving somebody another chance. And every time he left, she was the one picking up the pieces.””
Alexa watched him carefully.
“Is that what you think I'm doing to you?””
“I think people can tell you they love you and still choose somebody else.””
“Sometimes people do,” she acknowledged.
“But I have never given you a reason to believe that's what I'm doing.””
He laughed bitterly.
“You don't have to sleep with somebody to betray your marriage.””
Alexa felt her stomach tighten.
“And I don't have to abandon a friend to prove my marriage matters.””
He looked at her, eyes burning.
“There. That's what I mean. You always have an answer.””
“Because I cannot fix something you refuse to define.””
He turned away again, pacing toward the windows.
Alexa let him move. She was beginning to see that his jealousy wasn't simply about Noah. It was rooted in a fear that had existed long before their relationship. But understanding where the fear came from did not make the way he treated her acceptable.
“Pascal,” she said, “I can understand why trust is difficult for you. I can understand why the thought of being abandoned scares you. But I cannot spend our marriage proving that I won't do something I've never done.””
He stopped by the window.
“What am I supposed to do, then? Just sit here and accept it every time you run to him?””
“You're supposed to trust me enough to let me be a person outside our marriage.””
He turned.
“That's not what marriage means to me.””
“Then we need to talk about what it means to both of us.””
For the first time that morning, he seemed to consider her words rather than immediately reject them.
Alexa moved toward him.
“I want you to be the person I come home to. I want you to feel secure with me. But security cannot mean that I lose every relationship that makes you uncomfortable.””
“And what if I tell you that I can't live like that?””
The question hung between them.
Alexa searched his face.
“Then we have a serious problem.””
His eyes narrowed.
“So you're willing to lose me?””
“No.”” She swallowed.
“I'm telling you that I cannot promise to become someone else just to keep you.””
He stared at her for a long moment.
Then he reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out his phone.
“There's something you should see.””
Alexa's heart began to race.
“What?””
He tapped the screen several times and held it out to her.
It was a photograph of Noah and Alexa taken at a charity event months earlier. They stood beside a table covered with donation baskets, smiling toward the camera. Noah's arm rested loosely around her shoulders. Alexa had one hand on his forearm.
It was an ordinary photograph of two longtime friends.
But Pascal had zoomed in on their faces.
“Where did you get that?”” she asked.
“Your social media.””
She looked at him.
“You've been looking through my pictures?””
“Don't act surprised.””
“I'm surprised that you think this proves anything.””
He took the phone back.
“Look at the way he's holding you.””
Alexa closed her eyes briefly.
“He was posing for a picture.””
“And you were smiling at him.””
“Because someone took a picture!””
Pascal's face reddened.
“Do you hear yourself? You sound ridiculous.””
“No, Pascal. You sound jealous of a photograph.””
He stepped closer.
“I'm jealous because I know what it feels like when a woman starts giving another man the parts of herself that used to belong to me.””
Alexa's anger faltered.
“What parts of yourself do you think I've given him?””
“My attention. Your time. Your sympathy. Your loyalty.””
She stared at him.
“Those things aren't possessions.””
“They matter in a marriage.””
“Yes. They do. But loyalty doesn't mean I stop caring about anyone else.””
He shook his head.
“You just don't get it.””
“Maybe you don't want me to get it.””
The words struck him visibly.
He looked at her as if he had never considered that possibility.
Alexa continued, her voice quiet but firm.
“If you need reassurance, ask me for reassurance. If you feel neglected, tell me. If something I've done hurts you, explain it. But don't invent a betrayal and then demand that I prove my innocence.””
Pascal looked down at the phone in his hand.
For a moment, Alexa thought he might finally hear her.
Then his screen lit up with a notification.
He glanced at it and quickly turned the phone facedown.
Alexa noticed the movement.
“Who was that?””
“No one.””
She frowned.
“Pascal.””
“It's nothing you need to worry about.””
The words sounded painfully familiar.
Alexa looked at him, remembering every time he had demanded to know who was calling her, every time he had insisted that nothing should be hidden between husband and wife.
“Interesting,” she said softly.
His eyes narrowed.
“What?””
“You want access to every part of my life, but you won't even tell me who just contacted you.””
“It's a work message.””
“Then why hide it?””
“I'm not hiding anything.””
He picked up his mug and walked toward the hallway.
Alexa remained in the kitchen, her arms folded against her chest.
She had come home hoping to find the beginning of an apology.
Instead, she had found a glimpse of the fear behind Pascal's jealousy, a photograph he had turned into evidence, and a contradiction he had no interest in explaining.
She loved him.
She could see the wounded boy beneath the angry man.
May you like
But she was beginning to understand that she could not heal his wounds by allowing him to inflict new ones on her.
And as Pascal disappeared down the hall with his phone in his hand, Alexa found herself wondering what else he believed he was entitled to hide while demanding that she live without secrets.
