Sharing You (Sharing You 1)

“Cute, Liv, real cute. Where did it come from?”

“The furniture store,” she said slowly, like she was talking to a child.

I huffed and gritted my teeth. “Olivia, where did you get the furniture and how much did it cost?”

“Do you not like it?”

“That’s not what I said, please answer my question.”

“These are the exact same couches the Cunninghams have in their house! They had a five-page spread in Better Homes and Gardens last month!”

You’ve got to be kidding me. I could only play this game with her so many times before I snapped. And I only had about another two minutes before I lost the calm tone I was working so hard to maintain. Liv and her parents were obsessed with some family they viewed as royalty, had been since before I’d met them. They were in the same social circles but had never met, considering a good portion of the United States separated them. I didn’t understand it. To be honest, I’d always found it weird how they tried to be exactly like the Cunningham family—and now it was one of the main reasons I freaked out on Olivia when I did. Because just as Liv wanted to make sure she was identical to the Cunninghams’ only daughter, she also thought she needed to blow money the way they did. Money I wasn’t earning fast enough.

“The Cunninghams,” I said, an edge to my voice. “For the millionth time, Liv, you can’t live as if you are them. You can’t live like we have all the money in the world.”

“How could you not like it?” Tears instantly fell to her cheeks, and I bit back a groan. “I bought them for you, it was only seven grand.”

Seven—seven grand. Only seven grand. “Olivia, where did you get seven grand?” Please, God, please say from your father.

She sniffed and swiped at her eyes. “You had five thousand just sitting in the savings account, I had to do something with it!”

“Olivia! Are you—are you—damn it! You pulled this shit again?”

Her tears kept falling, but she stopped sniffling. “How dare you! I did this for you!”

“Every time, Liv, every time I start saving money you go and blow it on something we don’t need, all because of some fucking famous family! And now this time you spent an extra two thousand? I have to pay the mortgage in a week.”

“Regardless, it was still a gift. You could at least say thank you! Every time I buy something you get upset. At least I’m giving you something—all you’ve ever done is take from me.”

With that, she turned and stormed down the hall to her bedroom, leaving me crushed, aching, and once again so damn tired of this. I rubbed my chest, where the constant dull ache was now stabbing, and fell into one of the kitchen chairs.

Not more than ten minutes later, she was back and bouncing through the kitchen. “Hey, babe! What do you want for dinner?”

I wasn’t even surprised by this anymore; I’d just been waiting until she came back. “It’s after midnight, Liv. I’m not really hungry.”

“Did you already eat dinner? I’ll heat some of this up.” She murmured the last part to herself as she continued to pull takeout boxes from the fridge.

“Yeah, earlier tonight.”

“Oh.” She slammed the fridge door shut and turned to look at me. “All right, I get it. I can’t have kids, so I’m not good enough to heat up food for you. Yeah, fine, Brody. Feed your damn self.”

And here she goes again.

My wife hadn’t always been like this—and despite how it seems, she’s not crazy—and our relationship hadn’t been like this either. We’d been high school sweethearts, and then I’d left for the Army right after we graduated and everything changed. I came back home to visit after a deployment, and though we had stayed together, Liv and I weren’t close anymore. I knew why she’d stayed with me, but I hadn’t cared either way. She was someone to come back to when I visited my fami

ly.

Her parents hated me, and they let me know it every time they saw me. I wasn’t good enough for their daughter because I wasn’t going to college and didn’t come from money like they had. My family wasn’t poor by any means—we’d grown up in a great house in a great neighborhood. But we weren’t dripping with money, and we didn’t belong to the country club that Liv’s parents did. So apparently that meant we were trash. Olivia loved that her parents didn’t accept me, and I knew that was the only reason we’d stayed together as long as we had. But like I said, I didn’t mind.

I had a year left in the Army when my world changed. She called me crying, saying she was pregnant. I’d requested emergency leave as soon as we got off the phone and married her the minute I got home. Her parents were furious—hell, so were mine—but no way was I going to let her go through that alone. I couldn’t take care of her like her parents did, but I’d take care of her the best I could.

It took a lot of people high up pulling strings, but I was able to get us a house on base for as soon as I got back. Only thing was, she refused to go back to the base with me. Basically said thanks for marrying her and she was going to stay with her parents until I decided I was done “playing Navy.” Shit you not. And I wasn’t even in the Navy.

I couldn’t get leave often, but even when I did, she still didn’t see me. Didn’t even try. When I’d ask her, she’d say, “What’s the point? We’re already married.”

Yeah. Married and I haven’t seen you since two days after the fact.

The only thing she did include me in was the baby. After every appointment she sent pictures of the ultrasound, and she’d let me help her pick out a name. I’d gotten the message the minute she went into labor and received more pictures after he was delivered. The next time I got leave she still refused to see me and wouldn’t let me see our son. Instead, I stood outside her parents’ house and called her, only to find out that if I wanted to see either of them, I wouldn’t reenlist and I’d move back to Jeston.