“You still in the mood?”
I laugh, but before I can give an answer, Emma starts fussing from her room. Cody tosses his head back with a groan and rubs the back of his neck.
I pat his back, barely holding in another laugh. “Welcome to married life, honey.”
Chapter 39
Karissa
Cody just got back from a two-week work trip to the sportsman show in Pennsylvania with Jesse and his parents. It’s where outfitters, vendors, and taxidermists all go to show their business and take on new clients. It’s apparently a really big deal, and I think he said it’s the biggest sportsman show in the world.
But knowing what this event stirred up in the past—how he came home to a whole mess with his ex a few years ago—I made it a point to check in more than usual. Texts, calls, little reminders that I’m here. Not because I don’t think he trusts me, but because I want to remind him.
Even though he didn’t say it, didn’t admit he was a little nervous to leave, I saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. The way he looked at me before he left…he was scared, and he hated that he was. I’m not gonna blame him; I just have to keep building his trust.
It had been a long two weeks for me. Ella helped the most, but Megan and Mason stopped by once with pizza, giving me a chance to shower and clean up. Megan even came over another time on her own. I’d only ever seen her at family dinners these past few months, where you’re never really alone and it’s mainlygroup conversation, so it was nice getting to know her one-on-one.
She’s always been on the quieter side, but I’ve noticed the way she gravitates toward the babies. Knowing she teaches second grade, it makes perfect sense. After seeing her with Emma, just the two of them, I can tell she’s not just good with kids, she wasmadefor it.
But even with help every few days, I can’t shake this heaviness. I don’t know if it’s the cold winter weather keeping me trapped inside, or being away from my husband less than two months into our marriage, or something else entirely, but I feel low. Not every second, but in the hard moments, like when Emma’s awake and needing me, crying, fussy, fighting sleep, refusing food… Those are the times I feel it most, when I start hating everything again.
My therapist says it’s probably a mix of everything, just like I described. She’s given me Bible verses to read and reminded me to keep thinking positive, that it won’t last forever, that Emma will get older and more independent, Cody will come home, and winter will end. I know she’s right and means well, but when I’m in those darker thoughts, where the only emotions I have are sadness or the urge to cry, her words don’t feel like enough.
I’ve been trying to lean on God. Praying when I remember to, reading my Bible when I can. But if I’m honest…it doesn’t feel like it’s helping. If anything, some days it feels worse. And that’s the most confusing part of all.
As I’m reading through the New Testament, I keep stumbling over these stories about God healing people left and right. The blind man. That woman who touched His robe. Page after page of miracles. And I can’t help but think, why not me? Why can’t He heal me? It feels like it’s dangled in front of my face, proof that He can, but that He’s refusing.
This morning it broke me. I sat on the bathroom floor bawling, trying to pull myself together, and I couldn’t even get my makeup on because the tears wouldn’t stop.
But now, here I am, hours later, forcing myself upright and moving, trying to shake it off like it didn’t happen.
“Okay, which dress?” I stand in the living room and hold up the two options for Cody. One is mainly white with small red and pink flowers. The other a plain, shorter red dress with a cute sheer sleeve.
He’s on the floor playing with Emma, smirk tugging at his lips when he looks up. “Promise to keep it on a little longer after you get home?”
“Not funny,” I mutter.
His face changes but he still laughs. “Oh c’mon, babe…it’s been two weeks.”
“No it hasn’t. We did stuff this morning.”
“Well, I think we still gotta make up for lost time.”
“Huh.” Frustrated, I turn back around. “You’re no help.”
“Hey,” his voice calls out, this time concerned, but I’m already back in the bedroom.
I love Cody, love him so much it scares me sometimes, and I know we’re still newly married, but there are moments, like tonight, where I wish sex didn’t have to sit front and center in his mind. I get it, it’s a guy thing, and it’s not just him. Still, when I’m feeling low like this, it doesn’t help. It just makes me feel…used.
“Riss, what’s up?”
“I’m just not in the mood for your dirty mind.”
“Okay. Well, then just say that.”
“I did. I said it wasn’t funny and then you kept talking about it.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were—”
