I die, did comes the flippant remark. “Because didn’t I?” but you wound up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning, so I was right to worry “No, then, and right to worry Marco seethes, words laced with sharp, accusatory venom. I’m now,” The jab leaves him drained and, once his spurt of anger dissipates, perhaps a little guilty. He softens his voice a touch in apology. I know no good at it, but really trying here. “Look, I’m I’m I love you, and I want you to be better, but not gonna look over your shoulder constantly: I’m your husband, not your mom. So tell me what you need, and whatever it is the matter, I’m that’s tell me what it is. But lie to me and expect me to know what to don’t do.” Alex releases a shuddering breath. help this time, he admits, “You can’t Marco,” somehow managing to twinge his lament with fierce conviction. do any “It won’t good.” a flood of hurt in eyes. say he been There’s Marco’s “Don’t that,” whispers, “we’ve through worse than a couple of drinks on a Tuesday night.” Alex shakes his head exasperatedly. know Marco. not “You don’t what’s happened, It’s just the job, alright?” what is Marco is exactly what talking about! “Then it?” pleads. “This—this I’m ever gonna change unless honest with Nothing’s you’re me.” Alex steels his voice, looks away from the desperation in bewildered, wide-eyed Marco’s gaze. know you want to be lied to, but I really think not hear the truth about “I don’t you’d rather this.” Marco declares, but his assertion wavers, savoring of an apprehension “You’re wrong.” he know he had. didn’t
“Because I didn’t die, did I?” comes the flippant remark. “No, but you wound up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning, so I was right to worry then, and I’m right to worry now,” Marco seethes, words laced with sharp, accusatory venom. The jab leaves him drained and, once his spurt of anger dissipates, perhaps a little guilty. He softens his voice a touch in apology. “Look, I know I’m no good at it, but I’m really trying here. I love you, and I want you to be better, but I’m not gonna look over your shoulder constantly: I’m your husband, not your mom. So tell me what you need, and whatever it is that’s the matter, tell me what it is. But don’t lie to me and expect me to know what to do.” Alex releases a shuddering breath. “You can’t help this time, Marco,” he admits, somehow managing to twinge his lament with fierce conviction. “It won’t do any good.” There’s a flood of hurt in Marco’s eyes. “Don’t say that,” he whispers, “we’ve been through worse than a couple of drinks on a Tuesday night.” Alex shakes his head exasperatedly. “You don’t know what’s happened, Marco. It’s not just the job, alright?” “Then what is it?” Marco pleads. “This—this is exactly what I’m talking about! Nothing’s ever gonna change unless you’re honest with me.” Alex steels his voice, looks away from the desperation in Marco’s bewildered, wide-eyed gaze. “I know you don’t want to be lied to, but I really think you’d rather not hear the truth about this.” “You’re wrong.” Marco declares, but his assertion wavers, savoring of an apprehension he didn’t know he had.
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