Forever and ever 2. The adventure starts now.

Part 126.

Tom's pov~

"Tom?"
"Yes, princess?" We walked along the pier, hand in hand, but our minds seemed miles apart. Y/N had been absent and distant all day, and I couldn't help but wonder why. What had I done, and whether it had anything to do with me at all. Just the fact that she called me Tom showed a certain unfamiliarity that I didn't like, and all day long, I thought I was surely just imagining it, continuing to call her by nicknames she barely returned.

"Why are you here?" Y/N's voice carried a tone of curiosity tinged with something else, something I couldn't quite place.
"I wanted to surprise you," I replied, hoping to lift the weight of her demeanor. But her next question cut through any anticipation I had.
"Don't you have work on Monday?" Her words were like a splash of cold water, dampening my enthusiasm. So no 'thank you' for flying all this way to see her. I nodded, biting my lip to stop myself from asking again if everything was okay.
"Not until Thursday," I explained, trying to sound upbeat despite her lukewarm response.
"Hmm," was all she offered in return, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the horizon. It was clear she wasn't as thrilled about my visit as I had hoped. "Is everything else okay at work?" She asked, and it felt nice being asked such question, knowing she made a reasonable offer to show her concern.
"Most of the time." I nodded.
"And the rest of the time?"
I took a deep breath, the topic not small enough to just mention in passing.
"I'm just about ready to punch one of my coworkers in the face." I mentioned, and Y/N chuckled briefly, squeezed her hand as the sound from her throat tickled my heart in just the right place. Then I continued. "His name is George, and he... is just a jerk. Always making demeaning remarks about women, and I'm 110% sure he's raped some before."
I didn't want to just drop the bomb between us, but on the other hand, I knew George wouldn't get away with it much longer.

It was only a matter of time before someone sought revenge that lay beyond this world...
"I'm sorry," she murmured.
"I'll survive," I replied. The sun was slowly starting to disappear behind the last waves, and we stopped by a supermarket to buy snacks for the evening. Y/N had suggested watching a movie, and I wasn't sure if it was because she wanted to avoid any sex interaction or because she simply wanted to spend more time with me.

But in the evening, I found myself on her couch while she picked out a movie. I looked around the room, noticing the crooked picture on the wall showing a vase, the view from the window not being bad but not the best either, and the sofa a bit saggy. I glanced at the fabric, knowing that Clark had probably sat here more often than I had.
The movie suddenly started playing, and I tried to focus my attention on the screen. I threw my arms over the back of the couch, hoping Y/N would catch the hint and snuggle into my arms. But she apparently didn't. Why was she keeping her distance from me? After 10 minutes, I was the one scooting a bit closer to her, managing to get her to lean comfortably against me with her head on my chest while my fingertips stroked her arm up and down, comforting her. I knew she loved having her arm stroked, but did she love it now?

Whether it was a Disney movie we were watching or a science fiction film with non-stop action, I couldn't tell after my gaze remained on Y/N for 30 minutes straight. Her eyelashes fluttered so peacefully, her heartbeat so slow, her hair in a messy bun. I memorized every detail I saw. And then I thought she caught me when she suddenly jumped up out of nowhere.
"I need to use the bathroom," she said simply, and my heart started pounding again. Why did I feel guilty for admiring my wife? She was beautiful, and it was only when she turned the corner that I began to come back to reality. Crooked picture on the wall, mediocre view, saggy couch. Saggy couch with a phone on top... lying there quietly, as if asleep, but it was charged again, and I had seen her texting someone earlier. Was I a bad husband for taking the phone just to make sure my wife was okay? What if she was being blackmailed? Anything could happen nowadays...
I reached for the device, the same picture from the morning in the background, picturing our son holding a shovel. The passcode?
010696
Wrong password. Try again.
010696
Wrong password. I must have mistyped because it worked this morning.
0 1 0 6 9 6 and... error. The phone was locked. Luckily, only for a minute, but I could already hear the sound of the faucet running, so I quickly hid her phone under my thigh as she emerged from the door. Had she seriously changed her damn password? Did she catch me this morning when I tried to get in? There was no way... My fingers weren't clumsy enough to enter the wrong password three times in a row. It couldn't be my clumsiness. Now, the movie was truly the last thing on my mind because it was proof enough that she was hiding something from me. Maybe a pleasant surprise, my birthday was coming up in four weeks after all, but, that was a bit too early. Wasn't it?