Because right now, he needs me.
And whatever happens next, whatever comes after this mess we’ve made, I won’t abandon him while he’s shattering in my arms. I press my cheek to the top of his head, feeling the weight of everything he’s been carrying crash down between us.
His tears don’t make his behaviour okay. His regret doesn’t erase the nights I spent feeling small and alone in our own home.
I’m not going to make myself feel better by kicking him while he’s already down, but I’m not going to pretend that “sorry” is enough either.
If our relationship is going to survive this, he has to do more than whisper apologies into the dark.
He has to show it.
He has tofightfor it. For us. For me.
Matthew
The next morning, I don’t wake up until well after noon. Last night, after everything, last night, I’d crashed hard. Penny had woken up crying sometime after, and Brooke had gone to feed her. I’d decided to wait for her in bed, but somewhere between blinking and breathing, sleep took me.
I take a quick shower, trying to rinse off the weight of last night, but it clings to me. I'm not what you would call macho but even I draw the line at crying in my wife’s arms. When I walk into the living room, Penny’s in her swing seat, reaching up withdetermined little hands for the plush bear dangling above her. Brooke’s on the couch, laptop balanced on her knees.
“Hey,” I say softly.
She looks up, gives me a small smile, then turns her focus back to the screen. It’s not cold, not distant, but not the way it used to be either.
I make myself a bowl of cereal and sit beside her. She types for a few more seconds, then she lowers the screen slightly.
“Sorry,” she says. “I was making an appointment.”
I lift a spoonful to my mouth. “For what?”
“Therapy.”
The word makes me startle just slightly. “Oh. If that’s what you need-”
“It’s not for me,” she cuts in gently.
I freeze, spoon halfway to my mouth. “Me?”
She nods.
I open my mouth. “Do I… get a choice?”
She gives me a small, daring smile, not answering. And weirdly enough, that’s my answer.
I don’t exactly love the idea of talking to a stranger about everything that’s gone wrong in my life, but if that’s what she needs from me… if that’s whatweneed… I nod. “Okay.”
I try to sound casual. “I guess I’ve got the time anyway. I’m probably fired.”
Her head snaps toward me. “What?”
I tell her about the campaign debacle, the wrong location, the screaming, walking out yesterday. How I didn’t go in today either. She stares at me like she’s trying to figure out how to react.
“Aren’t you worried?” she finally asks. “My job doesn’t start until next week.”
“The bank already reversed the charges,” I say, stirring the cereal that’s already getting soggy. “So, we have savings again. I’ll get a good severance, and I’ll find something else. It’s fine.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but she lets it go with a quiet, “Alright.”
After I finish eating, she sets the laptop aside. “What are you going to do about your mom?”
