He stands up and looks down at me. His eyes narrow. “I missed Mikaela’s gymnastics class because I was stuck in a consult. I was late twice this week because traffic was a nightmare, and once I got pulled into the ER because they had a pile-up on I-95. I forgot to pick up Finn because a patient coded. None of it was me goofing off or ignoring you.”
His words are a slap. Hard. Unrelenting. Unapologetic.
“And do you know who had to pick up the slack, Rhys?” I grit my teeth. “Me. It’s always me.”
I stand, too, because I refuse to let him look down at me like he’s issuing a diagnosis.
“When you missed Mikaela’s gymnastics? I left work early,again, and rescheduled a client meeting I’d been prepping for all week.”
He’s about to speak, probably say something about how he doesn’t have time for this, so I keep at it, not giving him a chance to bail.
“When you were late twice, I shifted everything: dinner, homework, baths, the bedtime routine…all of it. I was juggling two cranky kids and three deadlines because you weren’t sure when you’d walk through the door.”
I step forward and get into his face.
“When you forgot Finn?” My voice goes low, tight. “I didn’t hear it from him. I got a call from one of his teammates’ moms, worried, asking if everything was okay because he’d been waiting alone, and you never showed.”
Guilt swarms his eyes.
Good!
“I left work in the middle of reviewing a brief to figure out where our son was. And when I finally talked to Finn later?”I swallow hard because this one I’m still pissed off about.“He lied to me. He said you’d told him to get a ride. He was covering for you, Rhys. Our sixteen-year-old is already learning to lie so you and I won’t argue.”
“Jayne—”
“No, no, I let you list all your important activities that overshadowed family, so you have to listen to all the ways I had to contort myself to cover for you.” My voice cracks. “And those missed dinners…well, the kids knew, and I pretended that I understood. They pretended that they didn’t see that I was frustrated as fuck.”
We stare at each other for a while.
He exhales hard and finally says, “Nothing is ever good enough for you. It never will be, will it?”
“Not with you half-assing it, Rhys,” I shoot back. His eyes brim with sorrow as they meet mine, and guilt tightens my chest. “Rhys?—”
“Fuck this, Jayne. You know what, I’m going tosleep in the guest room tonight and tomorrow…we can figure ournext steps.”
His words strike like a bolt of rage.
I bark out a laugh with no humor in it. “So,youscrew up and givemean ultimatum?”
“No, Jayne, you’re the one who has been giving me one for months. I’m just returning the favor.” With that, he walks out.
I stand rooted, unable to think, unable to understand how the hell we went from laughing about Tory to this.
Then I hear the sound of the guest room door closing. It sounds sofinal.
I collapse onto a dining chair.
My heart’s pounding, but there’s no fight left in me. Just quiet despair that’s devastating.
Something has to give.
And my experience with Rhys tells me that it may have to be me. This is the best he can do, and I need to decide if it’s enough or not. If it’s not enough, I need to let go of him and our marriage.
A sob breaks free. I can’t do that. I love Rhys. I love my family. I’m not going to break us up. No way.
That leaves only one option. I have to bend.
I thought I could have it all, but I realize that I can’t do my job, manage the house, and keep this marriage alive. Maybe the only way to save what’s left of us is to step back from something before it’s too late.
