by Tyler, Q. B.
I toss my phone behind me, not caring where it lands as I move towards her. She doesn’t move away from me and when I’m close enough to touch her, I wrap my arms around her petite frame. She shakes in my arms and I know she’s succumbing to the tears she was previously keeping at bay. I lift her into my arms and walk her towards the master bedroom, needing her in our marital bed. I sit her gently on it and she looks up at me. “I just don’t see how we can come back from this. This is just another way you’ve proven that I can’t trust you.”
“You can,” I urge her. “I swear you can.” I press my hand to her cheek and rub my thumb across her lip gently. “We can start over, fresh. I’m just asking for a chance.”
She nods, her lips forming a straight line, forcing me to drop my hand from her face. “It’s always just one more chance. What happens the next time you do something like this? What about the next time you betray me? Or lie to me? Then what? What happens the next time there’s a hiccup in our marriage that sends you running into the arms of another woman.”
“Not fair.”
“Oh? What do you call what happened with Amanda, Bennett? What the fuck was that? I know how I was, believe me. But your response to my depression was you fucking some other girl? If that’s your automatic response then we’re done here.”
“No! That just happened, Olivia. We’ve talked about this.”
“And you continued to spend time with her all the while professing to be in love with me? I call bullshit.”
“You heard what I said tonight.” I grit out. “I’m not proud of it, but you’re telling me you weren’t still in love with me while you were banging that douchebag, David?”
She’s off the bed in an instant and pushing hard against my chest. “Not the same!”
“Tell me, did you stop loving me while you let him fuck you?” I growl at her. “Did you imagine me when he put his mouth on you? When he put his mouth…here?” I ask as my hand snakes down between her legs.
She gasps when I touch her and then I feel her hand, hard against my cheek. In the nine years we’ve been together, Olivia has never slapped me, and if I didn’t feel the tingling on my skin, I wouldn’t have believed she did it. Her eyes flare in anger and I know mine match hers when I push her against the wall, hard. “Did that feel good?”
“Fuck off, Bennett. We are not having sex.”
“Why? You’re turned on. You want me.”
“No,” she huffs
“Yes,” I argue.
“Maybe my body does, but my heart and mind don’t.”
“Bullshit.”
“Oh?”
“You didn’t answer my question either.” I look down at her, putting an arm on either side of her. “Did you stop loving me while you were sleeping with David? Were you or were you not using him to get over me?”
“I wasn’t using him. I was trying to move on, Bennett.”
I pull back. “Did it work? Because I had my mouth between your legs a week after I moved back in.”
“You’re such an asshole!” She pushes me.
“Admit it,” I growl at her. My mind is screaming at me that this is not the way to reconcile. This is not the way to win my wife back, but I can’t help it. I’m tired of Olivia running from me. I’m tired of feeling like the world’s shittiest husband when all I want is to be with her. I’d made a mistake in judgment, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t my entire fucking world. “I kept this from you to protect us,” I tell her when she doesn’t answer.
“Bullshit! You didn’t want to have to talk to me about your fucking girlfriend.”
“She was not my girlfriend.”
“Are you really arguing semantics with me right now? I had a fucking miscarriage and you dealt with it by sticking your dick in another woman!”
Now I was pissed.
“Are you serious?!” I bellow. “Is that how you saw that go down? You wouldn’t talk to me or look at me. I begged you to see someone. I begged you to see someone with me. Those babies were just as much mine and I was allowed to be hurt over losing them too. You may have physically felt the loss but I felt it just as much emotionally and it wasn’t fucking fair that I wasn’t allowed to grieve.”
“No one said—”
“No. I wasn’t. It was all about you. I was so focused on keeping you going that I had to push my feelings aside, which I could do, if you fucking appreciated that. If you fucking appreciated that for months, I kept our marriage going when you checked the fuck out of it,” I tell her. “I fucked someone else, and I am sorry, so fucking sorry, you have no idea how much. But you closed your heart off to me. TO ME, Olivia. In sickness and health. Till death do us part. You forgot our fucking vows first, Liv. You turned your back on me when I NEEDED YOU.”
“I didn’t!” The tears are streaming down her face. I’m not sure what will come out of this argument, but we need to get everything out. There is no holding back if we want to move forward.
And I desperately wanted to move forward from this.
“I’m sick of you running or shutting down on me every time things get hard. Goddammit, you’re my wife and I want to take care of you. But fuck, there are two people in this marriage, Olivia.”
“So this is all my fault? I’m a shitty wife because of how I dealt with our miscarriages?”
“No,” I tell her, my voice calmer than it was before. “I would never say that. You were doing the best you could, but we both made mistakes. You hurt me too, Olivia.”
“And that excuses what you did?”
“No,” I tell her honestly. “It doesn’t. And it’s something I’ll regret forever. But will you regret leaving me? Because living with regret is tough, Olivia. Trust me when I say that. It’s a pain that is so deep in your soul that you can’t ever be free from it. You fall asleep with it, wake up with it, and then it haunts your every waking second. It changes the way you see yourself in the mirror. The way you interact with other people. The way you talk to yourself. It’s a lonely, self-deprecating feeling that preys on your mind and your heart and it never goes away.”
She bites her bottom lip. “I’d rather feel regret than wonder what you’re doing or who you’re with every time you leave our apartment. That will make me crazy. And I can’t spend the rest of my life questioning you.”
I shake my head. “You know me, Olivia. You know it wouldn’t be like that.”
“I thought I did. The fact that you were capable of cheating on me means you’re capable of doing it again.”
“Don’t spew that once a cheater, always a cheater bullshit at me, Olivia, because I don’t buy it and neither do you. You know how I feel about you and us.”
She puts her hands over her eyes. “Oh my God. I’m not denying that you love me, and between the two of us I’m not the liar,” she sneers. “So I’ll admit that I love you too, but it’s not enough. I don’t trust you, and that’s just as important.”
“Can’t I gain your trust back?”
“That’s what I thought you were doing! Despite the fact that you couldn’t remember, I was letting you back in. I was learning to trust you again. But as soon as you’re tested, you fail! You fall right back into these old behaviors.”
“I told you the truth about Amanda from the start, I never lied to you about that. I never tried to hide it.”
“Again with the semantics! It’s a betrayal of my trust either way.”
I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the wall behind me. “Well, it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind about me and this.” I shake my head, not wanting to grovel anymore. I have a headache and a heartache and I just want to sleep this fucking day off. I can feel myself getting frustrated at this maddening woman who I still love with every fiber of my being and the last thing I want to do is say something I can’t take back.
“I have.”
“Sleep on it,” I tell her. “We can talk when you’re sober and thinking clearly.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts, Benn
ett.”
“Then you’ll have no problem telling me this when you’re sober,” I tell her as I make my way out of the bedroom and into the room she’d slept alone all those months in. I know she hadn’t slept in our marital bed alone since the night I moved out, but I’m going to force her into it tonight.
I barely slept all night.
At some point, I sobered up, and with that sobriety brought clarity, pain, and the heartbreak that I was anticipating. After tossing and turning for the majority of the night, I finally get up, preparing myself for this final showdown with Bennett.
There is no denying that I love him. I will always love him and maybe he could eventually earn my trust back. But that day is not today. I need space. And maybe this is why he kept it from me. Maybe he knew all along I would need space.
Maybe I did too.
I’m struggling to make sense of my feelings for Bennett, but that means I can’t be around him. I can’t let our sexual chemistry or the feelings I have for him cloud my judgment. I can’t let the space between my legs control our narrative, and for that I need him gone.
I make my way into the hallway, and when I peek my head into the kitchen and living room, I don’t see him. I let out a sigh of relief as I leave the master bedroom and move into the bathroom.
I stare at myself in the reflection, remembering everything he said last night. Feelings of guilt bloom in my chest and it aches thinking about what I did to the man I love. I left him to deal with everything alone. I was so busy trying to survive the storm, I’d forgotten there was someone else fighting beside me.
I make my way out of the bathroom and just as I expect, Bennett is standing in front of the door, his bare chest on display in nothing more than his briefs. “Can you put some clothes on?” I try my best to appear unfazed by his appearance, but goddamn if he isn’t sex on a fucking stick. My eyes rake over his chest and up and down his sleeve of ink before moving towards the kitchen. I hear him moving behind me and I roll my eyes when I know he’s not going to oblige my request.
“Olivia, I want to apologize for last night. I said some things that…”
“You didn’t mean?”
“No, I meant them, but my execution was off. My emotions were running high, and I snapped when I shouldn’t have,” he says honestly.
I place a mug under the Keurig. “Do you want some coffee?” I ask, ignoring his apology.
“That’d be great, thanks.” He leans against the counter and stares at me as I watch our coffee maker in fascination in an attempt to avoid his gaze or his hard chest and washboard abs. “Look at me,” he commands. I do as he asks, and he cocks his head at me. “I want to be able to move past this.”
“Of course, you do,” I tell him, “but as you so eloquently put it last night, there are two people in this marriage, and it’s not just your call.”
He nods and his arms flex, showcasing the veins, and I avert my eyes quickly. “I…I don’t want a divorce, Olivia.”
“I also know that,” I tell him as I watch the coffee fall into the mug.
“Do you?”
I run my tongue over my teeth and look up at him. “Bennett,” I shake my head, “I want space.”
He looks relieved that I didn’t flat out tell him yes, but he still looks wary of my response. “What kind of space?”
“I would like if you moved out.”
His brows furrow as fear flashes in his eyes. “What?”
“I can’t work through this with you here.”
“What’s there to work through?”
“If I can trust you. If I can move on from this…” He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at something behind me, as if he’s zoning out. His green eyes are dull and not full of the love and passion that he usually has for me.
“Don’t do this, baby. If I walk out that door again, it’ll break me.” His words are so quiet I almost don’t hear them, but I feel them so deeply it’s as if he screamed them in my ear.
“If you stay, it’ll break me.”
He slouches against the counter. “I never meant to hurt you, Olivia. You have to know that.”
“I do,” I whisper.
He walks out of the kitchen and I let out a deep sigh. Within moments he’s back with a shirt and sweatpants on, much to my relief. I hand him his cup and he sits at the bar, his eyes trained on me. The quiet stretches on between us and I’m not sure what to say. “How long do you think you need this space?”
I shrug because I’m really not sure. “I don’t know.”
“Can I get a ballpark?”
“I can’t put a time on healing, Bennett…a month maybe?”
He stares down at his coffee, moving the mug around the counter with his hands, I’m guessing as a way to distract himself. “We can’t talk at all?” he asks finally when he meets my gaze. “I can’t see you?”
“I think that would be more difficult for both of us.”
He snorts. “This is bullshit.”
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“I get you’re pissed but you know you love me. You know that whatever anger you’re feeling doesn’t outweigh the pain you’d feel over not being my wife.”
“Wow. Someone’s full of themselves.” I roll my eyes and turn back around to make my coffee when I hear something flung against a wall. I snap my head towards the noise to see he’s thrown his stool at the wall and he’s stalking around the bar towards me.
“This isn’t a fucking joke, Olivia,” he snaps. “What we have is fucking real, and you know it hurts not being together.”
“If it’s so fucking real why did you ruin it?! Why did you break us?!” I snap back. He doesn’t say anything and I shake my head. “I can’t keep doing this with you. I asked for space so I can clear my head, I’d like for you to respect that. Please. I’m begging you.” The tears have started to fall and I can’t stop the feeling like my heart is breaking inside my chest. His hands frame my face, wiping the tears and I relish in the contact even if I know it has to be short-lived. His hands are warm and I just want to curl up in his arms and stay there forever. But I know I can’t.
I have to be strong.
“I’ll give you this space…but you have to promise you’ll come back to me,” he says.
“Bennett…”
“Promise me.” He stares at me, and my heart breaks at the words I have to speak.
“I can’t make promises I don’t know if I can keep.”
Bennett left that day.
It was hard.
Much harder than I thought it would be. Watching him walk out that door felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach and knocked the wind out of me and I struggled to breathe for the first full hour after he left. I sat on the floor of my kitchen, with a glass filled to the brim of pure vodka as I tried to nurse my broken heart.
He told me he was going to his mother’s and to call him day or night if I wanted to talk.
I didn’t.
As a matter of fact, I didn’t talk to anyone for three days. I ignored my mother and Alyssa and work and sat on my couch with fast food and vodka and horror movies because the idea of watching people in love made me want to jump from my seventh floor window.
It isn’t until the third day, that I hear keys in my door.
I’m not sure who I expected but Caroline Clarke surely wasn’t it.
“Oh Jesus take the wheel.” I let my head fall back with a loud groan as I take in my mother-in-law. I hiccup as I pull my drink to my lips and take a long sip. Thank God, I showered today and look somewhat human.
“Jesus is not amused young lady,” Caroline says as she pulls off her Chanel jacket and steps into the kitchen.
“Jesus and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment,” I tell her as I watch her root through my refrigerator.
“Well, He’s listening should you change your mind,” she says and I want to ask her where this newfound sense of Christianity came from when she always seemed to be pretty tight with Satan. I roll my
eyes and wrap the blanket tighter around myself. “Pizza, Chinese food, wings…honestly, Olivia, how do you keep your figure?”
“I’m not thirty yet.” I deadpan and she chuckles.
“Fair, but you should eat better.”
“Why? Your son is hellbent on killing me at a young age anyway. Why not clog my arteries?”
She closes the refrigerator and moves into the living room. “You’re drunk.”
“What was your first clue?” I hold up the glass. I’m not drunk, though I’m not far from it, but maybe a sign of intoxication would get her to leave me alone.
“He would hate to see you like this.”
“Well, good thing he’s not here.” I sigh. “Which reminds me, why are you?”
“I came to pick up some more of his clothes. He didn’t think you’d want to see him.”
“He would be correct.”
She sighs and takes a seat next to me on the couch. I’m instantly on alert and move slightly away, briefly wondering if she plans to hurt me. “Olivia.”
“Caroline.”
“My son misses you.”
“Try to contain your excitement.”
“Don’t be childish, Olivia. You think I want to see him hurting?”
“I know you don’t want to see him with me.”
“I want him happy.”
“And what makes you think I didn’t make him happy?”
“I know you did, Olivia.”
“Then why did you hate me so much? Why were you friends with his mistress? Why wasn’t I good enough for your son?” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. I have so many questions for his mother, so many why’s and how’s that I want answered.
“No one was. My relationship with Amanda was superficial. You broke my son’s heart and I was angry at you for it. He wanted you back and he was trying so hard to hold onto you.”
“He broke my heart first,” I snap.
“It was a mistake. People make mistakes, Olivia. You aren’t perfect either.”
“He slept with another woman. I’m well within my rights to not just look past that like it’s nothing.”
“And he was wrong for that. We all know that.”
