“Of course, you do—” The rest of my sentence was cut off by his work pager going off.
I rolled my eyes as he pulled it out of his pocket. He glanced at it, then pushed his chair back.
“I have to get to the hospital.” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and tossed a couple of hundred-dollar bills onto the table.
I bit my tongue, so I didn’t say everything that was on my mind. I didn’t want to start a fight in the middle of the restaurant.
Arsel came around to my side of the table and helped me up, then helped me with my coat. His hand was on the small of my back as he led me to the entrance. When we got outside, we waited for the valet driver to bring his car up.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He kissed my temple, but I didn’t want to hear his apology.
Arsel opened the door of his car, then waited for me to get inside before closing the door.
“Why are you even on call?” I asked the minute he got in the driver’s seat.
Date nights were supposed to be our time, which meant no work.
“Because Rob asked me if I could pick up his shift.”
I sucked my teeth. “And you didn’t think to at least let me know that?”
Maybe if I were better prepared, I wouldn’t have been so mad. I knew how demanding his job was, and I understood it, but at the moment, I felt blindsided.
“I didn’t think I would have to be called in.”
Arsel drove fast, but not fast enough to get a ticket. Whatever happened must have been major, but still, I didn’t like it.
“Whatever.” I crossed my arms over my chest. It was a clear indication that I no longer wanted to talk about it.
The rest of the ride home was spent in silence. Arsel knew when to argue with me and when not. I knew he wasn’t going to say much since he had to go to work.
“Baby, I’ma make it up to you. I promise,” he said as he pulled into the driveway at our house. “I can’t focus on work if you are mad at me.”
As much as I wanted to tell him to go to hell, I didn’t. I knew he needed to be in a good headspace to perform surgery, and I didn’t want to be the reason he messed up someone’s surgery.
“I’m fine.” I leaned over the console and kissed his cheek. “I love you and be careful.”
“Thank you. Love you, too.”
I opened the door and walked up the steps to the front door. Arsel stayed in the driveway until I entered the house.
I was nowhere near fine, and as I looked around the empty house, I thought about the multiple times I asked for kids. According to my husband, it was never the right time, and I was sick of hearing the same shit.
I tossed my coat and pocketbook on the couch and headed upstairs. I went into the bedroom closet and pulled out abig suitcase. Once I had it down, I went to the dresser and opened all my drawers. Tears spilled from my eyes as I pulled out everything I needed and put it into the suitcase. Once the suitcase was full, I went into the bathroom and packed all my essentials.
After I had everything I needed to last at least a week, I walked over to my bedside table and wrote Arsel a letter.
My decision to leave might have felt impulsive, but it wasn’t. It was something I’d thought about for a while. I began to feel like Arsel was too comfortable, but I wasn’t anymore. We discussed having children, so it wasn’t like me bringing it up was something new.
I loved my husband with my whole heart, but sometimes I felt like I came second to his career. Maybe some space would do us some good. Just maybe he would see how serious I was about it.
I left the note on his pillow, then headed back downstairs. Heaviness filled my chest as I dragged my bags to my car in the garage.
Once it was loaded, I made sure the house was locked, then I left. I prayed that our marriage could survive this.
“You got another delivery,” my grandmother said as she placed the vase of roses on the table.
“Thanks.” I went back to typing the paragraph I was trying to type.
