Why couldn't I stop thinking about her?
Why couldn't I just be happy with the life I already had?
I felt guilty as hell that I couldn't give her what she needed. I chose her and I had to do what was necessary to make this shit right.
I rubbed my hand over my face and took another sip of bourbon. "You think we need to go to therapy, Eva?" I asked suddenly.
Her head whipped towards me sharply. "What?"
Letting out a deep breath I studied her face. "Therapy. You think we need it? Think it would be helpful?"
Eva paused, mouth parted slightly, brows furrowed. "Doyouthink we need it?" she asked finally.
Running my hand down my beard I nodded once. "Yeah."
Eva leaned back on the couch her eyes going back to the TV. "Why?" she asked quietly.
"So we can get back right, babe."
She smirked and shook her head. "Get back right?" she echoed. "Right," she dragged out rolling her eyes.
"Look—I'm trying, Eva." I leaned towards her slightly.
She slid her legs from my lap, tucking them under her before turning her had back to me. "Because you feel guilty?" she countered, eyes sharpening but voice still steady. "Or obligated…which is far worse."
"Baby, that's not true," I insisted calmly. "I love you. I do."
Eva let out a short, bitter laugh. "I hate when you lie to me."
I didn't respond right away. "You don't think I love you?" I asked after a few tense seconds.
She shook her head again. "I don't know anymore, Bishop," she admitted. "I think you love the stability of having a wife and kids while you go out there living your double life. I think if I hadn't of gotten pregnant with the twins you probably wouldn't have married me at all."
That statement came out of left field and stunned me for a minute. She's never said no shit like that out loud. "So… you telling me this whole time, you think I've been with you out of obligation?" I asked carefully.
"…Maybe." She shrugged. "Or strategy." Her eyes flicked back to the TV. "A wife can't be forced to testify against her own husband in the court of law."
I froze then. Now she was on some other shit.Testify?The fuck? My eyes hardened and I sat up putting my drink down. "What are you insinuating, Eva?" I asked slowly, jaw flexing.
She exhaled sharply. "Nothing, Bishop. Nothing at all. If you want to try therapy—fine."
She tossed the pillow on her lap on the couch and stood.
"Eva—" I looked up at her.
“I’m tired,” she murmured avoiding my eyes. "Goodnight."
That didn't go the way I planned. But instead of fighting it and turning it into a big argument that would wake the twins, I just nodded. “Aight. Night.”
Eva lingered for a second like she wanted me to stop her. Say more. Fix it. But I ain’t have shit else to say after that. She turned and headed upstairs leaving me alone. I leaned forward rubbing both hands over my face tiredly.
This shit was a mess.
My marriage.
My mind.
My life.