Page 14 of If I Didn’t Have You

“That’s my den,” he shouted, pointing toward the house.

“And it’s about time you learned to share. I’ll be taking over.”

“That’s not the definition of sharing.”

“No, but you are sharing the room with me, as in, giving it up for a better use than afternoon naps!”

I turned on my heel and walked inside, ignoring his shouts that quickly followed.

“You don’t just get to make all the decisions around here!”

“Why not?” I asked over my shoulder. “For thirty years, you have demanded, cajoled, and persuaded me into doing everything your way. Well, I’m tired of it. This is the Age of Clara!”

“The age of what?”

I spun around just as he nearly collided with me. “The Age of Clara. It’s my name. It should be easy to remember.”

“But—”

I took off down the hallway again, straight into the den where I grabbed another deer.

“Be reasonable!”

“You be reasonable,” I snapped, grabbing the deer by the antlers and tugging. “For years, you have run this house like you’re the only one in it.”

“Is that what you think has been going on?” he muttered under his breath.

“Just because I run the way the house operates does not mean I’ve had any control over how it’s decorated, who gets what space, or even when I get to use a room!” I grunted as I tugged on the damn antlers. “And let me tell you another thing⁠—”

“Would you stop before you tear the damn antler off?” he growled, shoving me aside to grab ahold of the deer. “My father shot this buck.”

“Yes, and he loved the poor thing so much that he ate his entire body. I don’t see why that means we have to display his head. It’s really revolting.”

“Because it’s a prize!”

“It’s a head! And let me tell you something, mister,” I said in a low voice. “If we’re allowed to display heads around here, then you better be prepared for me to display your head when I decide to run you through!”

He smirked at me, that cocky way he always had. I used to think it was sexy and charming. Now, I wanted to smack it off his face.

“And just how are you going to ‘run me through’?” he mocked.

“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it for thirty long years. Trust me, when I decide to get rid of you, no one alive will find your body.”

And with that, I got back to work tearing the damn head off the wall while he contemplated the fact that I’d been planning his demise for so long. Should I feel bad about it? Maybe, but I was a woman, and living with a man for so long had really done a number on me.

“Clara, I think you’ve gone a little crazy. If you’re going through some mid-life crisis, do it the way normal women do it. Buy some new clothes.”

I spun around so fast, he actually took a step back. “Buy some new clothes?” I hissed, my voice low and deadly. “Are you actually suggesting that my happiness lies solely in the purchase of new clothes?”

“Well—”

“At least my mid-life crisis is productive. Yours consists of lounging around the house all day with chips all over your clothes as you watch reruns that are over fifty years old!”

I wasn’t sure how he reacted to my comment. After I said it, I got back to work and ignored his stomping as he left the room. I was done tiptoeing around my husband, bowing to his every whim. Maybe that worked when we were younger, but I wasn’t the same woman I was back then.

After two hours, I had the room cleared out, and it was time to start painting. I’d picked up a soft green that I felt would really go well with the woodwork. There were only two walls to paint, but I knew changing the color would make a world of difference.

But before I could start painting, the valance and blinds had to go. I tore them down, leaving no chance of them ever being repurposed. But I didn’t stop there. I marched through every room in the house, ridding all the windows of the hideous decorations I had lived with these past thirty-plus years.