Dying to Love Her

by Tina Martin

  “I hope not.”

  “So do I.” Thoughts of Andre cloud my mind as I hang on to faith that we would survive this. I imagined that when I finally went home today, he’d serenade me and greet me with a dozen roses. Our eyes would lock. So would our lips. And he would hold me in his strong arms like he’s afraid of losing me. Like we’re that spontaneous couple in the Bahamas, sharing breakfast and a bed together, making love every time our gazes locked.

  Hey, a girl can hope. That’s what any woman who was madly in love with her husband would hope for. That her husband would realize her value. If Andre couldn’t recognize that I was special – that he couldn’t find another woman like me, that no matter what my ailments were that I loved him – then I guess I’ve lost him already.

  Chapter 5

  Andre

  . ~ . ~ .

  HE CALLED HER phone again and again, only for his calls to be rerouted to voicemail.

  Where are you, Ava? He was worried, and rightly so. She had health problems. All he ever did was worry about her, which left him feeling unsettled most of the time. Even when he was at work, even at times he knew she was okay, he still worried.

  When he finally heard commotion at the front door, something in him stabilized. His wife was home, but their family day had been ruined.

  He walked to the door, watching her step in the foyer, holding Andrew.

  “Here, I got him,” he said, taking his son from her grasp, carefully since Andrew was sleeping. He carried him to his room, lowered him to the crib then jogged back downstairs to find Ava. She was in the kitchen, pouring a glass of orange juice in a tall, clear glass.

  “Let me get that for you,” Andre said, walking up to her, reaching for the bottle of juice.

  “No, I got it.”

  “Ava, let me get it.”

  “No!” Ava snapped, snatching the plastic container of Simply Orange away from him, spilling some of it on the countertop. “I said I got it.”

  “Okay. Fine.” Andre said, his face tangled in frustration. He walked to the opposite side of the counter, watching her now. “Where were you today?”

  “At the mall,” she responded.

  “Alone?”

  No, I was with another man. Ava took a sip of juice.

  “Were you alone?” he asked again.

  “Why does that matter?”

  “I’m just asking...think I have that right as your husband.”

  Short of rolling her eyes, Ava said, “No. I wasn’t alone.”

  Andre frowned. “Then who were you with?”

  “I was with Sasha.”

  Andre slid his hands inside the pockets of his faded, Diesel distressed jeans, never taking his eyes off of her. He wondered if Todd had told Sasha anything they had talked about, and if he had, what if Sasha mentioned something to Ava? “Listen, Ava. I’m sorry about what happened last night.”

  She carelessly shrugged. “Why?”

  The question threw him off. What did she mean why? Why does anyone apologize to someone else? “Are you asking me why I’m sorry?” he asked for clarity.

  “Yes. Why are you sorry?”

  “Because I didn’t convey what I wanted to say to you the way I wanted to say it. I should’ve been more—”

  “Untruthful?” she interrupted.

  Andre frowned. “Ava, I have never lied to you about anything.”

  “Exactly, so don’t start now.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning I need you to tell me how you really feel about us and this relationship.”

  “Ava—”

  “Do you even love me anymore, Andre?”

  His eyes darkened. “I’m not going to justify that ludicrous question with an answer.”

  “It’s not a ludicrous question. You’re bored with me because I can’t do everything you do. I can’t keep up with you and—”

  “Ava—”

  “Don’t even try to deny it, Andre. Just tell me the truth for once. Do you think I’m boring?”

  Andre grimaced. Why was she provoking him? He fought with everything inside of him not to answer her question. If he was being truthful, the answer was yes. He did find her boring – well, not necessarily her but the marriage. That’s what it was. Their monotonous marriage is what irked him the most.

  “Just tell me the truth, Dre. I mean, this is our lives after all. We need to talk honestly and openly with each other. Now I know you’re—” she said, her eyes watering. “I know you’re not happy. Right?”

  Andre dropped his head. No, he wasn’t happy and still, he didn’t want to actually say that to her. However, he knew she could read between the lines. He’d been holding it in for so long, his true feelings were coming out in his actions rather than his words, but now she wanted to hear him say it.

  “So,” Ava said, taking his silence as an affirmative answer to her question. “You’re going to be in Charlotte next week for a new acquisition—”

  “You’re coming with me,” he interjected.

  “No. I’m not. You need that time alone to figure out if you want to be with me.”

  “Ava...”

  “You need time, Andre, and I want you to have the time. Contrary to what you believe, I can take care of myself. I don’t need you watching every move I make, dictating everything I can and cannot do. So you go to Charlotte, alone, and think long and hard about what you want, Dre.”

  Andre watched Ava dab her eyes as she exited the kitchen. She wanted him to be alone to think, but he wasn’t sure that was what he wanted. He didn’t need time alone to know that he loved Ava and wanted to be with her. The thought of leaving her hadn’t crossed his mind. The things that did run across his mind on a constant basis was what his life would be like if she didn’t have health issues. He wanted a well, healthy, vibrant Ava. Why did the woman he fell in love with have to have health problems? If only he could improve her condition...

  Chapter 6

  Ava

  . ~ . ~ .

  I SHOULD’VE CANCELLED dinner with Todd and Sasha, but they are here, sitting in our elegant dining room, at a twelve-chair table. We’ve taken the center four chairs on each side of the table – Andre and I are on one side and Todd and Sasha are sitting directly across from us. Andrew is with my mother. She wanted me to bring him by yesterday and since I didn’t get a chance to do so, she’s keeping him today. Said it would give us adults the night to ourselves.

  We’re all sitting here quietly. Awkwardly quiet. Before the silence, we were talking about the layout of the house, the gold chandelier hanging above us and the swimming pool out back – the pool that, in one of his over-protective rants, Andre told me never to use. I’ve never used it...

  After getting all of his questions answered about our house, Todd goes on to discuss matters about his tax business. Andre, in turn, had mentioned something about an acquisition, and now, silence. It’s so quiet, I can hear the ticks of the oversized, Roman numeral wall clock in the foyer.

  The four of us have done several functions together – not many since Andre and Todd are both business owners – but whenever Todd and Sasha are in town, we always make time to get together and hang out. Our time with each other is usually lively and cheerful. Fun and lighthearted. But this evening, it’s nothing of the sort. I feel like, now that they know Andre and I are going through some issues, the conversation seems forced. I can tell they are carefully choosing what they talk about so as not to cause a disturbance.

  “Hey, Ava, are you going to Charlotte with Andre next week?” Sasha asks.

  I can feel the heat of Andre’s eyes on me as he awaits my response. “No, I’m not going,” I say. When I look up, I watch Todd glance up at Andre, then back down to his plate.

  “Cool,” Sasha says. “We can get together a few days and do some girlie stuff then.”

  I nod. “We can do that. I’ll let you know which days will work best since I’m starting a new exercise program next week.”

  “Excuse me?” Andre
says, frowning. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  In the matter of a few seconds, I watch his frown deepen. His hazel eyes have become darker.

  “I start with a trainer next week,” I say.

  “That’s not a good idea, Ava,” he tells me.

  “It is. I need to build my strength and energy so I can keep up with you. That way, we don’t have to do boring things all the time.”

  He glares at me.

  I resume eating, picking over a salad that I don’t even want.

  “Ava, you can’t just up and decide that you want to start something as strenuous as a regular exercise routine without even discussing it with me.”

  “I tried to discuss it with you last night but you weren’t trying to hear me. And this is not a spur-of-the-moment thing I decided to do, Andre. I’ve been talking to my doctor about this for a while and he’s already told me that it was a good idea.”

  “What did he say exactly?”

  “He said it was fine...that it would help with my fatigue.”

  “Getting adequate amounts of rest will also help with your fatigue.”

  “Yeah, but it won’t help our marriage, now will it?” I toss out, because I’ve had it. I’m sick of him always telling me what to do...what to eat, what to wear. It’s exhausting.

  “O-kay. I think we should get going so Andre can have time to pack for his trip,” Todd says, pushing his chair away from the table so he can stand.

  “Yeah,” Sasha cosigns. She stands up too.

  Even though they haven’t finished their dinner, they’re ready to get out of here and I don’t blame them. The tension in the room is so thick, one could suffocate from it.

  I stand to give Sasha a hug on her way out, then jog upstairs, leaving dinner on the table. I feel sick...feel like this little bit of quiet time I have alone is the calm before the storm. Since Andre isn’t up here yet, I assume he’s outside, chatting it up with Todd, probably talking about me again.

  I proceed with taking a warm shower, something I know will help me relax, although I doubt, with this tension between Andre and I, that I will be able to fully calm myself and have a peaceful night’s sleep. Besides, I’m sure he has a few things he wants to get off of his chest before he goes to bed, and I know he blames me for ruining the evening...

  Then again, he’s the one who’s been telling Todd how unhappy he’s been. As far as I’m concerned, dinner was ruined before it started, hence the reason why I should’ve cancelled it.

  I shut off the water, grab a towel and dry my body in front of the mirror. Since the surgery, I’ve been doing this – staring at the large scar on my chest. I’m very self-conscious about it. I don’t wear low-cut dresses or blouses for fear someone will see it. I don’t even like Andre to see it, especially now that I know he’s unhappy. Lately, I’ve been questioning whether or not he’s even attracted to me.

  I shake the feeling and slip into my gown, wishing I didn’t have to deal with Andre tonight. After a botched dinner, all I want to do is sleep. Not talk. Sleep. I pray he’s downstairs, clutching a bottle of Miller Light, watching ESPN, or on the phone dealing with some last minute issue for work.

  When I open the door, there he sits on the bed, looking at me. Staring. His eyes roll down to my exposed chest where he can see this hideous scar of mine. I instantly feel self-conscious – not a feeling a woman wants to have standing in front of her husband.

  “Sorry,” I say. “Didn’t know you were in here. Let me grab my robe.”

  “You don’t need a robe,” he says.

  Ignoring him, I quickly take my robe from a hook on the bathroom door and slide into it, tying the belt around my waist to keep it closed. “I think I need it,” I say, not to be argumentative, but because it just needs to be said. “You haven’t seen me naked in quite some time. There must be a reason for that.”

  He frowns and glares at me. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

  “Perfect. We know how good you are at pretending...” I could slap my own self for actually saying that out loud, but if I held it in, I would be doing exactly what I’m accusing him of doing. Pretending.

  “And what am I good at pretending?” he asks.

  “That you’re happy. That you like being married to me. That you like taking care of me.” I watch his gaze transform into a sharp, dagger-like glare that pierces my soul. He’s looking at me but there’s blankness in his eyes. One that scares me.

  “Okay,” he says as calmly as a summer breeze on a June day. “Let’s not pretend anymore. I am tired, Ava.”

  “Oh...now the truth comes out.”

  “You want the truth? I’ll give you the truth! I’m tired of listening to you whine and complain about what you can’t do. I’m tired of planning my schedule around your needs and I’m tired of putting my life on hold for a woman who doesn’t appreciate me. There. Happy? No more pretending...it’s all out there.”

  I’m numb. You know that saying, be careful what you ask for...well, I asked for it and even though I knew the answer already, to actually hear Andre say it was a much worse feeling than having my chest cut open. No, that didn’t compare at all to how I feel now. My heart has been stomped on. Trampled and dismantled – all by a man who said he’d love me forever.

  I sit on the bed because I’m afraid I’ll faint, fall over and it my head if I don’t take a seat this instant. Tears slide down my face. Time stands still. I’m speechless. In a trance.

  “I’ll be downstairs out of your way,” Andre says. “I’ll be sure to be extra quiet when I get up in the morning so I don’t wake you.”

  My body jumps when I hear the bedroom door slam closed. I dab my eyes, but then the floodgates open. I want to leave this house because being under the same roof with Andre when he’s angry is torture. All this time, he’s been holding in the truth, that he resents me, which makes me believe the only reason he married me is because I’m the mother of his son. Is that really a reason to marry someone?

  I say no. I was against it in the beginning. Even though I love Andre and is absolutely taken by him, I still get the feeling that we’re uneven, like he married down, settling for someone he could simply dub as his baby mama. I wasn’t the brief-case toting, high-heel wearing business woman who spoke with an elevated level of intellect to match his intelligence and expertise. I was just a woman, looking to start living a life that I’d been afraid to live because I was scared to die – scared that my heart would fail me because it had been engrained in me that it would, and it almost did, but I got a transplant in the nick of time. And Andre was there through the entire process...

  More tears fall from my eyes. I wonder if this could actually be the end of us. And, if it is, what about Andrew?

  Back when Andre didn’t know Andrew existed, I was fine with being a single mother. Now, I know the importance of my son having both parents in his life – not to say we have to be together for Andrew to be a happy, successful child, but that would be ideal. And I love the idea of us being together forever as a happy family, but Andre is not happy, and since he’s not happy, neither am I.

  Chapter 7

  Andre

  . ~ . ~ .

  ANDRE SETTLED IN his Charlotte home, a house he’d bought for the family when he had to be there on business. Presently, Rockwell Computer Components was going through an acquisition, and the executives from RCC and Internal Components would be meeting centrally in Charlotte with the lawyers in a couple of days.

  Andre took his brandy glass from the coffee table and swished the Cognac around, then took a sip. His home was decorated with the finest furniture and was much more comfortable than a hotel. And with a hard drink, he hoped he could relax.

  This evening, though, he didn’t feel relaxed. Even at work during the day he couldn’t focus for meetings, something his V.P., Scott Banks had brought to his attention several times. He didn’t have the stomach to eat so he’d skipped lunch and was even crankier during the afternoon.r />
  When discussing details of the acquisition of Internal Components, Andre was off his game, thinking about the things he’d said to Ava the night prior. Her cries and whimpers had haunted him today. He’d hurt her. Said words he couldn’t take back.

  He took another swig of Cognac and set his glass on the table. How could he leave home for a week and not even say goodbye to Ava?

  Reclining on the couch, he dialed her number. He didn’t expect her to answer, but even if she didn’t, it would give him the opportunity to leave a message for her. But when the voicemail picked up, he couldn’t find the right words to say. So he ended the call, fell back on the couch and let out a worrisome sigh. He had a big meeting with the CEO of Internal Components tomorrow and he needed to be focused. But how could he if he was worried about Ava?

  He sat up again and dialed Todd’s number, and while he waited for an answer, he sipped on his drink.

  “Dre, what’s up with you, bro?”

  “Todd, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Send Sasha over to the house to check on Ava, please. I’ve tried calling her and she won’t answer.”

  “Ava’s fine, Dre. Sasha was with her most of the day. She went with her this morning to meet Ava’s trainer.”

  Andre frowned. Ava decided to start at the gym against his wishes. He expressed his worry and concern about a lot of physical activity for her. What if her heart couldn’t handle it?

  “Is she there?”

  “Who? Ava?”

  “No. Sasha.”

  “Yeah. You want to talk to her?”

  “Yes. Put her on.”

  Andre could hear Todd telling Sasha who it was on the phone, then he heard Sasha say, “Hey, Andre.”

  “Hey...Todd tells me you were hanging out with Ava today.”