Status Updates From When Valentines Collide (Ki...

This is like the opposite of a love story. And it's making me depressed tbh.

She shaves him with a straight razor.

AND he suggests she quit her job. QUIT HER JOB.

"We'll get pregnant again," Matthew said. "And I'm willing to wait however long it takes."

She twitched her lips into a smile and nodded her head like a good little girl.

GOSH! You don't have to DO THIS! You don't have to allow him to keep getting you pregnant over and over so you can miscarry over and over and over. He does NOT have that right.

Then he is ordered to give her a night of pleasure. So he does. Both wake up happy. Then he brings up babies. AGAIN. Just shut the fuck up, man. She's had nine miscarriages. NINE. What the fuck is WRONG with this guy?!!? Don't you think she might be depressed, tired, upset? Don't YOU have any feelings of sympathy and compassion for her? You sound like a heartless monster.

Sitting still and trying not to make any additional contact, she noticed for the first time a change in cologne. For years his signature scent was the sandalwood-based Hugo by Hugo Boss. She had been the one to introduce the fragrance to him as a Christmas gift back in '96. He loved it because she loved it and he'd worn it ever since.

Now this tangy scent reeked as being a gift from another woman.

Then he has horrible sex with her. Just horrible sex. Rushed, painful and uncomfortable. No foreplay. She just lies there and waits for it to be ove. He gives no heed to the fact that she's not enjoying herself at all. No wonder she fucking cut him off five months ago. Not to mention all the shit she was talking about earlier.

This is a bizarre romance novel. I am expected to believe he bounces back from this?

"Hey, baby. You finally decided to pay Big Daddy a visit?"

Is this what you would say to your woman FINALLY allowing you to have sex with her after five months of being cut-off because you are a complete dickhole?!? Relationship expert, MY ASS. He may have graduated from Princeton, but he's a fucking moron.

The white lines of the road blurred at the sudden sting of tears. Why couldn't Matt just let it go? Not every couple had children. Not everyone was meant to be parents.

But in the last six years her husband had grown obsessed. From endless tests to new and innovative positions, Matthew was determined to have a child. Making love had become sex and sex had become a dull, emotionless act that had left her feeling

"Let me ask you something. And be as honest as you can. If you and Chanté continue on the way you have been, how long do you think it will be before you finally accept Cookie's invitation?"

Now she swings at his head with a metal pipe. Confused as to how this is a romance novel. I think Byrd is going for 'comedy,' but these people are in a seriously fucked-up relationship and I'm of the opinion that it is not salvageable. They should divorce, for their own safety.

He cuts their brand-new Mercedes in half with a chainsaw. I'm gobsmacked, this man is insane. Rich people. I'm telling you. Fucking nuts.

Coming from a large family of four brothers, four sisters and a host of cousins, nieces and nephews, Matthew had always assumed that one day he, too, would raise a small army of children.

You can't always get what you want. Stop trying to force your woman, who's suffered from NINE miscarriages, to get pregnant. At this point, you're a fucking monster with no heart.

I don't understand the "I hate you, now kissing" dynamic. Never did, never will.

"Tell me you want me," he commanded softly. "We don't even have to go upstairs. We can do it right here. Right now, but I want to hear you say it."

Fuck off.

Then he mentions babies again. She's had NINE miscarriages. Nine. What the FUCK is wrong with this guy? She's certainly not going to fuck you now that you've said that.

Frustrated, Chanté stomped her foot and glanced around the room to throw something - anything. She grabbed a nearby statue, but was stunned when the damn thing wouldn't move.

"What the - ?"

"Superglue," Matthew replied with a smug smile. "Your screaming tirades have gotten a little on the expensive side."

I don't think the idiots in this book understand how divorce works.

"Now he seems to think all he has to do is get his groove on and wait for a baby. A baby. That's all he ever talks about. After nine miscarriages you'd think he would give it a rest."

I'm horrified. Nine miscarriages and he's still insistent on getting his wife pregnant?! No wonder she kicked him out of the bedroom five months ago. Unbelievable.

"I can't do this any longer," Chanté announced as she marched straight toward the bar.

"It's eight in the morning."

"What can I say? I like vodka with my eggs."

She seems really immatue for a 39 year old woman.. Picking things up and throwing them.. REALLY?! I'm going to keep reading.. But I hope they get it together!