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I can tell he’s awake beside me. I knew the second he woke up because I haven’t slept all damn night. I’ve lain here and stewed, growing angrier and angrier with every passing minute.
He reached for me the second he woke, but it took about five seconds before he pulled his hand back. Despite wanting to be strong, I would’ve caved if he had pulled me against his chest and told me anything. Hell, he could’ve reiterated the rules the club has. He could’ve told me under no circumstances am I allowed to leave the property without a chaperone, and I would’ve agreed.
But everything that he says after remembering he doesn’t want to touch me doesn’t count for shit. It will only feel like he’s obligated to try and protect me. He would only double down so as to not look bad in front of his club. He can’t be the guy who can’t protect his wife. It’s more about saving face than any concern for my well-being.
I don’t say a word when I climb out of bed, and he doesn’t reach for me either.
I take care of business in the bathroom, going pee, brushing my teeth, and showering, before coming back out into the bedroom.
I’m not surprised to find him out of the bed. Hell, it was weird for him to still be in it after the sun came up. He’s normally quick to pop up out of the bed like he can’t wait to get a new start to his day. The days he does stay in bed later, his mouth is on my skin, his hands wandering my body.
He’s dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, and for some reason, I feel uncomfortable at the sight of him. Or maybe it’s because there’s this urgency inside of me that wants to apologize and beg for forgiveness. I don’t want him to be angry with me, but at the same time, I can’t lose sight of who I am either.
I pull my towel tighter around me as I walk toward the closet. He doesn’t say a word as I step inside and pull the jeans and t-shirt I set aside last night to wear today. I dress as quickly as I can because every second I spend here makes me question every decision I settled on last night.
“What are your plans?” he asks, but I don’t answer him immediately.
I take the damp towel back to the bathroom, taking more time and care than necessary to hang it on the towel rack than required.
I avoid looking at myself in the mirror because I know there’s pain in my eyes that I’m not entitled to.
“Beth,” he says with a sigh much the same way he did yesterday sitting in the vehicle at the park.
“It should be clear,” I tell him, waving my hand toward my packed suitcase.
There’s a loudness in my head that urges me to force him to ask me to leave, to cause such a scene that I’ll never be welcomed back. It’s a contradiction to the whisper that insists that staying calm is best because it’s the only way there’s a chance that he’ll ask me to stay.
My mind is at war with the options, but at the end of the day, I know I only have one. It’s really going to suck crawling back to Lindell. I have no doubt there are literal polls and betting about what was going to happen, and my brother Andrew is probably the one who had wagered the highest. My brother being the one who has always had less faith in me than anyone else may actually benefit me this time because I doubt he’s expended the energy to clear out my apartment yet.
I know better than to feel disappointed when Derrick doesn’t try to stop me when I lift the handle of my suitcase and wheel it toward the door.
I pause with my hand on the doorknob, needing to say something but knowing if I look back at him, I’ll lose my nerve and end up begging for him to care about me the way I care about him.
“Once I get back to Lindell, I’ll have the paperwork started to legally end this.”
“You’re going home?”
“I’m going to the shelter first because Brielle has a test she needs help with this morning.”
I don’t give him any more details. I hadn’t planned on running back home with my tail tucked between my legs. I like the work I’ve been doing at the shelter. It gives me purpose, and I feel like I’m in the right place every time one of the students smiles when they learn something I’ve taught them. It’s the most gratifying I’ve ever felt where work is concerned, and I think it’s because of the trials and tribulations they’ve all gone through that make the small victories they find so much sweeter.
