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There was a piece missing here. A little sliver neither of us could put together. We’d been existing in this place, suffering the world’s longest breakup. Our destruction had expanded over seven years, tearing out my heart bit by bit.
“You always seemed relieved when I left for work. Like you didn’t even want me home.” My voice was hoarse, dry from the emotion I was keeping at bay.
“Because when you were home, you didn’t even help,” she snapped.
“Because you wouldn’t let me,” I barked. With a step back, I placed my hands on my head and willed myself to lower my voice. “Every time I tried to change a diaper, I did it wrong. I couldn’t feed them as well as you could. Only you could decipher their absolute gibberish. When I tried, you took over. I thought that was because you wanted to do it. That you didn’t want my help.”
She watched me in silence, tears in her eyes and the pieces of her broken heart scattered on the floor around her. Mine was there too, those shards I’d held tight to for all these years, hoping I’d find a way to glue them back together.
But maybe this was what we needed. We needed to bare our souls, let it all out. Show each other our scars and our heartbreak. We had to dig out all the bad before planting the good. We were hollowed out, and now we could set a solid foundation and build from here forward. If I could just get her to see that we could be different this time.
We could uncover where we went wrong and fix it, knowing that if it happened again, we’d stick together and work through it.
I could…I didn’t even know. The boys were so big now, so it probably wouldn’t have the same impact, but I could take them out once a week, have a guys’ night so she could rest and relax. She could work, do whatever, wherever she wanted. I could warm her bed at night and make her breakfast in the morning.
I could do it right. I could be the husband I vowed to her that I would be from day one.
“You stopped smiling.” She sniffled, her chin lowered and her hair hanging like a curtain around her face.
“What?” I squinted, stepping closer, itching to tuck her hair behind her ear and wipe away her tears.
She stepped back and winced, like voicing these declarations made them sink further into her. “At home, you never smiled. Not the real smile I knew.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. Not one she would want to hear. Not one that would make sense to her.
I shrugged. “It was a rough time.” It was a woefully mild term for what we’d put each other through. The silence, the resentment, the arguing when we couldn’t take it anymore, the lying to friends and family and telling them all that we were fine. Great, even. All the moments of my life I never wanted to relive. But I’d pull each one out and try it on, bring it out into the light. I’d do it for her. Because if I didn’t, we’d never fix this. If she ever decided she wanted to.
She lifted her chin a fraction and pointed at me with an accusatory finger. “You smiled at everyone else. Doled out those grins like you had plenty to spare. When you left for work, you were so much happier, and I could see that happiness drain out of you the second you pulled into the driveway.
“Like you couldn’t wait to leave me, to leave us, each day. Like our home was this dismal beacon that sucked all the joy right out of your life. Do you know how much that hurt? To know that my husband dreaded coming home to me?”
I’d never thought of home as a joy-sucking place. But maybe I did sometimes dread coming home after a particularly stressful day. Because more often than not, when I walked in, we’d fight. Then we went from fighting to not caring, and I felt like my role as a husband no longer existed. My only purpose was to be the financial support. Even the boys didn’t want me. I would try to play, to bond with them and show them that see? I can work overtime and be the fun dad. But it was useless. I was useless.
The pain those memories caused stung deep in my chest, but I didn’t run away from it. I refused to push it away. I sank into the hurt between us, and I let it soak in and fill every crack and chip of my damaged heart. Because I was prepared to do anything, sacrifice it all, to pull us together.
“Marigold…I’m sorry. I am. I should have fought for us. I should have caught us when we were slipping. You’ll never know how sorry I am that I let us go. I should have brought home flowers and told you how much I loved that our sons adored you. I wish I’d told you that I still wanted a life with you and our family. I should have taken you out more. Should have called during the workday. Checked in on you. Should have taken more responsibility at home to lighten your load.”
I took a step forward, pulling her hands into mine, willing her to feel my sincerity, to see the truth when she looked at me.
“If it hurt you half as much as it hurt me when you left, then I know it was excruciating. And yes, we both worked hard every day for nearly seven years to find our new normal. But we have this rare chance here, now, to rekindle this. To bring back what we had. Don’t let it slip away again.”
Pressing my lips together, I searched her face for a sign. I waited for her to argue that we couldn’t fix us. I waited for her to try to convince me that being friends, allies, was our only option.
Instead of doing any of that, she dragged her attention to my lips. Lips that were probably swollen and slightly bruised from my nonstop anxious biting. Then she brought those sage green eyes back up to meet mine. They were clear and shining in the salon lights. Like maybe she could see that I’d put my whole heart on the line here. I was flayed open in front of her, showing her the good, the bad, and the ugly.
As I opened my mouth, ready to beg her for another chance, she lifted to her toes and planted the softest kiss to the corner of my lips. It was so gentle that if I hadn’t been holding her elbows in my hands, squeezing for affirmation, then I wouldn’t believe she was here.
It felt like a goodbye kiss. Or maybe it felt like the first kiss of something new. I couldn’t tell anymore. She was going to have to decide.
She took a deep breath through her nose and grasped my biceps. With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she studied me, her eyes bouncing back and forth, as if considering what she wanted to say. “I think I—”
The bell on the back door chimed as it opened, and we pulled apart.
Cindy hobbled in holding what looked like a box of donuts from Marlo’s. “Oh. Well, I’ll just make myself useful. I’ll be in the front having a bear claw and not listening in.” She shuffled away, slower than earlier.
Marigold sighed, her expression a silent apology. “I just need a little time.”
My heart sank, but I nodded. Giving her time hadn’t worked out well for me before, but I had to trust that she knew what she needed. Maybe I could have faith in that. Because she wasn’t giving me a straightforward no. I’d take what I could get.
