“And Gabriel?”
“I asked him to stop with me.”
“And?”
“He didn’t.”
Dr. Ruben waits patiently for me to dive in.
I take a deep breath. This is it. The beginning of the end.
CHAPTER 16
Gabriel has gone outwith the guys from work to ‘blow off steam.’ It’s the third time since he went back to work a month ago.
I’m sitting up in bed reading a book when I hear him come home. Normally I’d get up and greet him, kiss him long and hard because we haven’t seen each other in twenty-four hours. This time I don’t want to.
If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. Just like I don’t say anything about last weekend, when I found him passed out in a lounge chair in the backyard. Or four days before that, when I found him asleep in his truck in the driveway with the door flung open and the engine turned off. I’d sworn that when he woke up, I was going to give him hell. My argument formed in my head, my throat clogged with the words I would say to him. I’d imagined it like an intervention, and he would weep with sadness and gratitude and painful but necessary introspection.
None of that happened. He’d come to find me after he’d woken up and come inside, fresh from a shower and smelling like the cologne I’d given him last Christmas. His eyes held fear and a measure of self-disgust. I felt relieved; as long as hewas self-flagellating, I could remain quiet. I’d hoped, naïve and stupid, that maybe he could dig himself out of this hole.
Now he’s standing in the doorway to our bedroom, giving me a look I’ve seen hundreds of times. He wants to have sex. I doubt he can perform in his current state, but that’s not deterring him.
My lips tug into a smile that doesn’t match how I feel. I’m a fraud, both inside and out. “I don’t think so,” I say playfully, wagging a finger at him. “I have the worst period cramps.”
Lie.
Gabriel’s lower lip juts out. He tosses his wallet on the dresser, but misses it by a good twelve inches. “I hate your period.”
I place my open book on my lap. “You and me both.”
Gabriel bends to retrieve his wallet, and stumbles. “Whoa,” he says, throwing out an arm for balance. He makes it upright, and glances at me. Childlike shame replaces the lascivious glint in his eyes, like he’s a puppy who peed on the carpet.
“Who put that step there?” I joke, and hate myself for it.
Gabriel goes into the bathroom and starts the shower.
I lay my book on my nightstand and turn out the light.
I love Gabriel.
I hate his actions.
I love our marriage.
I hate who I’m turning into.
CHAPTER 17
My dadand Lara are taking us out for dinner to celebrate our third wedding anniversary. Gabriel arrived home from his shift two hours ago. He took a shower like he always does, then went out back carrying a book. He’d had a beer in his other hand, which I pretended not to see, and he pretended not to be hiding from me.
I stay in the house, scrolling through old photos on my phone. I choose one, taken a year ago. Gabriel stands behind me, his arms wrapped around me as he presses a kiss to my cheek. I’m grinning. The photo is soft focus, giving it a dreamy quality. I navigate to my social media app and upload the photo, typing out the captionAnother amazing year with the man who makes my heart beat faster.I hit post, then close the app and cry.
CHAPTER 18
Every summer,Joseph closes the practice for two weeks. I asked Gabriel to ask for time off for a vacation, thinking we needed a change of scenery. Something fresh, and new. He said other people were already taking vacation, and he couldn’t.
So this brochure of a resort in St. Lucia that Gabriel handed me a moment ago? I’m still in shock.
