[Previously titled 𝗚𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁𝘆 𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲]
❝No, Ace. I can't do it," I sob.
"I know you can take more than that, sunshine, come on," he encourages, pummeling into me in fervent motions. "One more for daddy, yeah?" He coaxes in a gruffly voice...
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A C E
I dry my hair with a towel, rubbing it briskly to soak up the water. Then, I head into my walk-in closet to pick a casual outfit for tonight. It's the weekend, and I'm going to Olivia's to celebrate the end of her finals, as I promised. She's worked hard, and I want to show how proud I am.
Before getting ready, I made sure Marisa is comfortable at home. Balancing their needs isn't easy, but I try my best. As I sit on the edge of the bed, slipping on my shoes, Marisa strides into the room.
"Hey, where are you off to?" She asks.
"Just heading out for a bit,"
"Are you going to see her?" She probes with a slightly bitter tone and I let out a sigh, resting my arms on my knees as I look up at her.
"Yeah, I'm going to see Olivia," I admit and she rolls her eyes.
"Of course," she mutters frustratingly.
As I rise from the bed to hang up the towel I used to dry my hair in the bathroom, Marisa trails behind me.
"Why do you always choose her over me?" She begins and I frown.
"Marisa, it's not about choosing one over the other,"
"But it feels that way," she retorts firmly. "You're always running to her, leaving me here alone!"
"I'm not leaving you alone," I respond, turning to face her.
"You do. You're always prioritizing her over me, Ace. It's like I don't even matter to you anymore," she accuses and I sigh wearily.
"That's not true. I care about you, but I'm just trying to be there for Olivia too. She needs me right now," I say and she snorts, crossing her arms defiantly.
"But what about me? What about our baby? Don't we need you too? Don't we deserve your attention too?" She says and I clench my jaw, annoyed.
"Of course you do," I reply firmly. "But I want to be with Olivia right now. That doesn't mean I'm neglecting you or our child,"
Marisa huffs in frustration, but I raise a hand to stop her from continuing.
"Look, I don't want to argue about this right now. Let's talk about it later when we're both calmer," I say.
"Fine, go have fun with your precious student while leaving your pregnant wife alone. Typical," she grits out as she storms out angrily.
