Page 11 of The Marriage Rebound

But the two of them weren’t likely to hang out together unless it was some sort of group setting. And I liked being the nucleus that kept our circle together. Each of them had clicked with me when I’d danced at The Candy Shop and we’d formed our tentative friendship that had sustained over the years, for the most part.

Tanisha thought Denise was fine for a night out, but had said more than once she didn’t like how Denise always seemed to seek out mess. Because of that, Tanisha shared very little about her personal life with Denise, especially where her relationships were concerned. Unlike me, who shared everything. Every time Courtney pissed me off, no matter how slightly, I was telling anyone who’d listen.

I narrowed my eyes at her, equally annoyed that she wouldn’t just say whatever the fuck it was she wanted to say and grateful she was dropping the subject. “You’re right, we’re here to have fun, so let me go do that.” I drained the last of my drink before pushing to stand. The fast movement made me wobble, so I had to steady myself on the back of the booth ’til the dizziness passed. Once the wooziness subsided, I made my way to the dance floor.

Courtney was sitting at the island when I entered the house. The early-morning sun shining through the window made her smooth brown skin glow. I was surprised she wasn’t still in pajamas given the time. Instead, she was fully dressed as if she had plans for the day. Her short locs were secured on the top of her head in a small bun, which gave a full view of her fresh line-up undercut. She glanced at me briefly, giving me a once-over with her honey-golden eyes, before returning her gaze to her phone as she finished up her cereal.

Vuitton ran up, jumping at my legs for attention. I set my purse on the bench then picked him up. Meanwhile, Courtney got up, rinsed her bowl, then headed upstairs. She didn’t even speak. Didn’t express any concern about the fact I’d been out all night.

“Hey, baby, at least you missed me,” I cooed to my happy pup.

I adjusted him in my arms and made my way to our room. She wasn’t there.

Slowly, I put down Vuitton while looking at our bed, my side of the bed. All the packages I’d purposefully left out were arranged neatly, lined up from the pillows to the end. I pushed a few out of the way so I could sit and grabbed the satchel Louis bag in the checkerboard pattern. I ran my hand along the silky peony lining.

It, like everything else laid out, was a comfort purchase. A pretty thing to make me feel better. Vuitton whimpered, pawing at me to be picked up. I obliged, placing him on the bed. I ran my hands through his soft fur, letting the smoothness calm my nerves.

Courtney still wasn’t trying to fix this.

She always fixed. Called the truce, broke the silence, offered the olive branch. But she didn’t even speak to me.

I glanced to the doorway as Courtney appeared. Holding a suitcase. I looked at it, then back up to my wife. She didn’t leave for her overseas team for a couple of weeks. It was the time of the year I looked forward to the most because she was home for an extended-ish period of time. So seeing her with the luggage confused the fuck outta me. “Where you off to?”

Courtney let out a heavy sigh, shook her head, then strolled to her side of the bed, setting the suitcase down before unzipping it. “I’m heading to Tina’s for a couple days. I waited to make sure you got home safe before I dipped.”

I rubbed my ears. Surely I hadn’t heard her correctly. “Excuse me?”

Over to the closet she went and grabbed a few things. “It’s just a few days. I need to think.”

Slowly, I rose to standing. The familiar unease and anguish crept in, setting off tiny explosions of self-doubt and fear. “About?”

She dropped the clothes beside the suitcase then scrubbed her hands down her face. “I don’t want to fight, Sasha. It’s just a few days so I can sort through some things.”

My breath was slowly being squeezed from my body, and her nonchalant delivery tightened around me with each shallow exhale I managed. “Always ’bout what you want, right? And I’m supposed to just be okay with my wife abandonin’ me for ‘a few days’ without question or discussion.”

Another heavy sigh, with a roll of her eyes. “Stop with the dramatics. It’s not abandonment. I have told you where I’m goin’ and how long I’ll be gone. It’s not like I just stayed out all night, without so much as a phone call or text to let my spouse know I’m okay.” She leveled a direct gaze at me. “I wouldn’t be that inconsiderate.”

Her words were a direct hit, but I refused to flinch. We were in a stare down and the tightness in my chest intensified. She was leaving me . . .

I crossed my arms and widened my stance. “If you were so concerned, you could have called. My phone does work.”

Courtney huffed a laugh as she started folding the clothes and placing them neatly in the suitcase. The longer she said nothing, the more frustration spread through me and made my mind spiral, like a body snatcher taking over.

She was leaving me.

“Oh, you ain’t got nothing to say to that, huh?”

Slowly, she closed her eyes and let out a long exhale. “Your phone works, huh? You coulda fooled me.” Again, she made eye contact, holding it as she spoke with deliberation. “My wife, the person who should be goin’ the hardest for me, for what was accomplished, hasn’t so much as uttered a fucking ‘congratulations.’ Yet you expected me to call and chase up behind you? For what, Sasha? For-fuckin’-what? When you made it abundantly clear you don’t give two shits. So, yeah, I’m headin’ out for a bit because right now you, us, it’s feelin’ real fuckin’ transactional and I don’t like that.”

It wasn’t just the words she spoke that knocked the wind out of me; it was also the delivery. She didn’t raise her voice, like during some of our other arguments. That was how we were, loud and passionate in our viewpoints. But not this time. No, these words were spoken with an underlying heartache and disappointment coated in bitterness.

I’d fucked up. Tanisha’s words from last night repeated in my head . . . maybe I had gone too far by going radio silent.

She held eye contact for a few more seconds before she laughed quietly to herself and shook her head. I pulled in a shaky breath as I watched her continue to pack.

Yes, I could have handled things better. But instead of talking it out, she was leaving me . . .

I scooped up Vuitton and left the room. If she wanted to go, she could go. I wouldn’t stick around just to watch her walk out on me. And I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing how much her desertion was breaking my heart. Because if she expected me to beg and plead for her presence and attention, I wouldn’t.