San Andreas Island

by Angela Costello

  “What am I supposed to do?!” He’s looking at me like he’s been completely blindsided, but I have no idea how that’s possible with the way things have been.

  “I’ve fought, yelled, cried, told you what I want and need, and nothing changes. You know how unhappy I am. But you haven’t cared or listened until right this second. Look at me!” I raise my hands in the air, for him to see that I’m skin and bones.

  “I’m in shock.” He’s finally stepping out of his own world for a minute, and taking in what’s happened to our marriage. “But you’ve never told me you were feeling like this.”

  “I’ve never said divorce, you’re right. But I’ve told you how unhappy and stressed I’ve been for years, and that I didn’t sign up to be the breadwinner of the family, or to take care of everything on my own. You’ve completely taken me for granted! You never come to bed with me, you reject me over and over again. We don’t have sex!” Dylan’s eyes are glossy now, and I think he and I are both surprised that I’m not rubbing his back and soothing him. “I’m sorry, I just can’t run myself into the ground anymore. This is not healthy for us. I’m not going to end up in a hospital with a nervous breakdown.”

  “I’m so sad that it’s gotten to this point. I know it’s not fair to you that I stuck it out so long and was unfailingly pleasant and agreeable and just said gave in after so much fighting and caved and did everything for us. You needed to hear No over and over again. No, we can’t put that trip to the Caribbean or Sydney on my credit cards and max them out. We need to buy those tickets when we have liquid money, or at least pay our electric bill first. No, we can’t drain the 20k of savings I was proud to have earned over the years before I met you. No, you can’t quit that job because you don’t like that your boss is telling you that you have to be at work on time, or quit the next one because you just don’t like being a lawyer anymore, or keeping the surf shop open, or doing personal training, or anything where you have to start from the bottom and be uncomfortable like the rest of us… while I have to stay at mine no matter what because the bills have to be paid somehow.

  I don’t shed one tear. They’ve dried out from all the years of crying up until this point.

  I can’t tell if he’s more upset that he’s losing me, or that he has to figure out what he’s going to do for a steady income now. He tries to keep me; he’s crying, apologizing, begging. It’s too late.

  "Why didn’t you tell me that you would divorce me if I didn’t change? “ Dylan asks.

  “You’re kidding me. I shouldn’t have to threaten to leave you in order for you to come to bed with your own wife, or for you to be willing to stay in a job so that we’re both sharing the weight of the bills together. I never even considered divorce until now. I deserve to be with a partner who notices me, who sees me, who genuinely cares about someone other than himself, who wants to take care of himself, who’s willing to get uncomfortable for the sake of us being a team, who both gives and takes equally, and doesn't just take take take to only keep wanting more.”

  “But I do care,” he says. Dylan wiping tears from his face and has his face in his hands.

  “I’m disappearing,” I say, tugging on my top. “People at work think I’m anorexic. I’ve told you this. I’m having panic attacks, I even had one in front of my patient!”

  “What about Lily?” He looks me dead in the eyes. “Do you even care about what this will do to her?”

  “Lily’s not ok. She’s still wetting the bed, she doesn’t talk to anyone. She can’t make friends at school. She’s very unhappy. She feels all of our tension. She needs for us to be healthy and she deserves that. And we’re not. You know all this, and none of that was enough for you to change? What you needed to hear was a threat that I would divorce you? I refuse to live like this anymore - for her, for me. You know how unhappy I’ve been, or have you not noticed or even cared? I’ve tried to say it nicely for years, and cried it, yelled it. Nothing works with you. I never wanted to leave you. Divorce never even crossed my mind all these years. I loved you. I still do.” I feel myself softening a bit.

  “I love you, too. I want to make this work. Please, baby,” he takes my hand. “Don’t pull away.”

  I let his hand rest on mine, and wipe a tear from his cheek with my other hand. “I’m sorry,” I say. “We were great early on, hun. It was like a fairytale love story. We clicked in school immediately. I thought you were handsome and funny and charming and we laughed and learned a lot from each other. Our date at at our favorite restaurant and that incredible night where you pleasured me in a way I never had been pleasured before. You surprised me with picnics and coming home to dinners you’d make and music and candles and bathtubs filled with rose petals. That feels like a whole other lifetime. That’s why I stayed for this long, because that’s who I married. Now I don’t know what to believe. I feel like it was all just good marketing skills to get me in—I signed the dotted line, and had no idea I was signing up for everything to be different after that.”

  Dylan’s eyebrows are furrowed and doing that thing I found cute at one point, but now it just gets under my skin.

  He cries hard and pulls his hand away. He’s bawling like I’ve never seen before. I rub his back without even thinking about it. He looks at me, confused. “I can’t believe you’re so calm,” he says. “I can’t believe you’re quitting - just like that.”

  “It’s not just like that. I’ve been killing myself trying to fight for us to stay together and make this work.

  “Who are you in love with?” He asks.

  “Her name is Natalia,” I can’t help but feel my face soften. I try to control it, but I can’t. I can see his whole body bulk up. His blood is boiling. And his pain has turned into anger that’s building and building.

  “Natalia?!” He sounds grossed out. “You’re breaking up our family for a fucking dyke?” My stomach turns with his words. “You’re a joke.”

  I turn around and look down the hall at Lily’s bedroom door. “Please keep it down. I don’t want to wake her up. I’m sorry. I didn’t do this on purpose.” I’m still shocked I’m not crying.

  “You want to break up my family over this? I’m going to make your life a living hell. I promise you that,” he says. I feel horrible that I’ve turned him into this angry monster right now, but my mouth won’t take back my words. He continues, “Does your mom know you’re a fucking dyke,” he spits out, as he gets up and grabs my phone out of my bag.

  “What are you doing?!” I grab his arm in an attempt to get my phone from him. I’m panicked he’s going to see all the messages between Natalia and me. But he’s not doing that. I see him scrolling to my mom’s name. He starts texting from my phone and reading out loud as he’s typing.

  Me: I’m breaking up my family because I’m a selfish fucking dyke

  He hits Send!?

  “Oh my God! What are you doing??! I can’t believe you!” I yell. I’m pulling on his shirt and arms, trying to get my phone. “That’s my mom!”

  “Watch me. You fucked up my family. I’ll fuck up yours.”

  He’s scrolling through my contacts and hitting Block and Delete on Jake and Jane, his parents, his sisters.

  I’m in utter shame. I grab his other arm and then get a hold of my phone and pull it from his hand. He shoves me off of him and I fall to the ground. I can’t believe this is happening!

  I’m frozen on the ground for at least several seconds trying to compute this whole thing. I get back onto my feet and pull at his shirt, tearing it at the neckline. That pisses him off even more and he slaps me across the face. “You’re a fake ass cunt, and I’ll make sure Lily will know the real reason she’s from a broken home. That you broke up her family.”

  With that, I give up. My cheek stings, but I deserve it. Tears are rolling down my face.

  I never wanted to be a victim and sadly I put myself in that position. He’s right. I’ve been fake. I’ve been lying my whole life. Maybe I am a les
bian? I don’t even know. Or maybe I just don’t even know who I am or how to love. I wasn’t emotionally equipped to get married.“Fuck you!!” I yell at the top of my lungs.

  My heart stops when I see Lily standing in her doorway. I’m mortified. What have I done?

  Chapter Fourteen:

  Shook (November 19, 2023)

  I wake up and I’m a bit disoriented, remembering I fell asleep on the sofa. The clock on the oven is pretty far from here, but I think it reads 2:27. I get up and pour myself a glass of water, and put some ice in a bag to press against my cheek. I stand with my back against the kitchen counter, nursing my sore cheek.

  I open the bag of ice and let the cubes fall into the sink. As I’m drying my hands, and walking back to the sofa, I remember my new reality. I think Dylan and I are breaking up. I can’t believe things got physical tonight. Us. Dylan and me. This isn’t even who we are. So unreal. I think of Lily’s little face in the doorway. I’m so ashamed. We’re that out of control and this is Lily’s world now. We’ve failed as parents. This isn’t why we brought her into the world.

  Footsteps creek on the hardwood floor down the hall. Dylan and I meet on the sofa.

  “Hey,” he says. His eyes are puffy.

  “Hey,” I’m so lost right now. I don’t even know what to feel or say.

  “Babe, I’m sorry about this,” he takes over holding the ice pack for me. “I don’t know how this even happened. I freaked out.”

  “It’s fine. I deserve it. I’m sorry about everything.”

  “I don’t want to get a divorce,” he says, as he looks into my eyes.

  “Dylan, we both know we can’t keep doing this,” I say, and now the tears are falling.

  “Baby, I just don’t want to lose you,” he wipes my tears from my cheek. “It was just a hook up with a woman. We can get through this together,” he says and holds my hand. “I believe in us. I’m sorry for what I said last night. And about your mom. I think I had a couple drinks and this is all just so scary if I were to lose you.”

  “I know you hate when I mention this, but I really do think you need to talk to someone about your drinking,” I say.

  “I will. I will do that. You’re right,” he says. “I can talk to you. You help people with this, right?”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” I say.

  I look at him with soft eyes. “I’m sorry, but it’s over honey. I don’t regret anything, even after all this,” I say. “But things have changed. We’ve both changed. We were so in love, and all that’s gone. I just can’t do this anymore. It’s killing all of us. Lily’s not ok, I’m not ok, and you’re not either.”

  “You’re really giving up on us? You’re not even willing to try? I just can’t believe you’re walking away so easily,” he says, rubbing my thumb with his.

  “I’ve been trying, for so long. I just never said the word divorce. I never even considered it. It didn’t cross my mind as an option. But I’m exhausted from trying and this isn’t healthy for any of us, and I can’t try and hope anymore for something that will never change. We’re the worst versions of ourselves. And you are a good dad. This doesn’t change that. And no matter what happens with us, I don’t doubt for a second that we’ll continue to raise her together with love,” I say, as he pulls his hand away.

  Dylan looks as exhausted as I feel. “I don’t want to end this.” He’s staring down at the table, and then up at me with such sad eyes.

  I put my hand on top of his. “Let’s sleep. We can figure everything out later. This has been a long night.” He goes back to the bedroom and I return to the sofa. My body feels strangely calm right now.

  ****

  I wake up to a powerful jolt and the eerie sounds of the structure of the house moving. The sofa is jerking back and forth. Having grown up in Southern California, it doesn’t startle me. These tremors only last a few seconds. I stay still for a while, since nothing’s fallen from the bookshelf. Dylan’s snoring down the hall in the bed room.

  “Dylan!” I shout. “Dylan, wake up!”

  Nothing.

  I don’t know why I bother. Of course he won’t wake up. Let him sleep. There’s nothing that could drop onto him over there.

  Although we get earthquakes every few years, we’re raised to keep the idea in the backs of our minds that we should be prepared for the inevitable Big One. For that reason, our mirror hangs on the other side of the living room, and our bookshelf is securely attached to the wall, positioned so that if it falls, it won’t reach the sofa. The house is starting to jolt harder now, and I stand up, losing my balance as the ground moves beneath me. This is not a typical quake.

  “Mommy!” Lily cries from her room.

  “I’m coming, honey! Stay calm and go under your desk!” Now, the adrenaline is moving through me, charging my body up into high alert and draining away all my sleepiness. I flip the light switch. Nothing happens. Great. I see my phone on the coffee table and turn on the flashlight app so I can find my slippers next to the sofa. I put on my slippers, and try to point my phone towards the ground a few feet ahead of me. Lily and I have practiced what to do during an earthquake once a long time ago. I wish we had practiced more often. But they do earthquake drills at school, or at least they used to when I was her age. I hear the rumble of the quake continuing. God, is this ever going to stop? Usually these things are like a few seconds of turbulence on a plane. This one’s just not letting up, and the jolts are so strong.

  “Dylan! Wake up!”

  I hear the lamp in the corner crash to the floor. I step towards the doorway, slip my phone into my pajama pocket and press my hands against the sides of the door jamb as I stand underneath it to try to find my balance.

  “Mommy!” Lily calls for me, and I can hear the panic in her voice growing. I keep my focus on the light in her room.

  “Just hold onto the leg of the desk, honey, I’m coming!” I feel like everything’s in slow motion, but moving so fast at the same time. It’s not letting up.

  “Babe! Are you ok?” Dylan shouts from our room. Finally, he’s awake. Our bookshelf crashes down behind me, nearly grazing my back as I keep moving forward even though I haven’t fully gotten my balance. I’m in the hallway and seeing that the picture frames are all slanted, and one of them has fallen onto the floor. Lily’s crying, and it’s taking forever for me to get to her.

  “I’m ok! Be careful. There’s glass everywhere!” I yell back and stumble toward Lily’s room. My hands press against the wall, holding me up as the ground rolls underneath my feet. I’m on a roller coaster with no seatbelts. The air is a bit smoky now. Is something on fire? But it seems faint, so maybe it’s far away in the neighborhood. I need to move fast and get to Lily. Why is everything in slow motion? My eyes catch tiny pieces of dust and paint chips. It’s irritating my eyes and I can’t blink it away. I see the wall is separating from the ceiling. The foundation of the house is shifting, and dirt is falling from where I never clean on top of the high shelves. This is not like any of the other quakes we’ve ever had!

  I manage two steps forward and my foot falls out of the slipper. Why did I think slippers were a good idea as safety shoes for this kind of emergency? I arch back to get my foot into these ridiculous foot protectors, and I lose my balance again. Forget it. If I get cut, I get cut. I need to get to Lily. I make it four steps down the hallway, and stop in my tracks when I hear the mirror in the living room shatter. It’s so ear-piercing, Lily’s cries match it.

  “Stay right there!” I yell. I can’t keep my balance long enough to take even two steps forward. I’m inside a giant snow globe and whoever’s holding it needs to put it down already. It’s impossible to stand still.

  I plant my left foot slightly forward and firmly onto the ground so that my right foot can stay back and help with balance. I press both of my hands against the hallway walls on either side of me as my body rides the tidal wave that this entire house has become. I can smell condiments t
hat have fallen and broken open onto the kitchen floor: soy sauce, hot sauce, vinegar. Outside, people are screaming and car alarms are going off. The world is loud but muffled at the same time.

  I hold my breath and let go of the wall for two seconds, and grab it again when the earth tests my balance. Maybe I can crawl to Lily’s room. I crouch down. As my view of the ground bobs up and down, I see the hardwood floor is now covered in glass from every single picture frame we carefully hung along the hallway. I stand back up and Dylan’s yelling behind me but I can’t make out what he’s saying. I turn my head to see him. The bookshelf is blocking our bedroom doorway. He’s trying to move it out of the way but it’s jammed. I turn my head away. I can’t focus on anything right now except the light in Lily’s room. I trip with every step through the hallway, but I’m inching forward. I don’t hear her calling my name anymore, and my heart sinks. “Lillyyyy!” My throat is sore from screaming.

  I finally make it through the noise and the smoky air to Lily’s room. Where is she? Her once tidy room looks like it exploded. There are toys and books and pictures scattered everywhere. I go straight to her desk, which is what we’d practiced before. She’s supposed to climb underneath, hold onto the leg of the desk with one hand and cover the back of her neck with the other. I’m trying to sound calm, but my heart is aching with fear and not knowing if she’s ok.

  I still can’t see her. I’m out of my mind right now! I’m yelling at the top of my lungs. I’m kicking the books, toys and stuffed animals out of my way. I need to get to her. I drop to my knees. It’s so hard to see the desk through all the dust in the air. I thrust forward and the standing lamp crashes down, hurling shattered glass across the hardwood floor and onto her shag lavender rug like confetti.