Page 38 of About Time

A forty-five-minute drive, ten-minute walk across campus, and a fifteen-minute wait to speak to my advisor is all the time I get to hold on to the delusion that I can actually salvage any part of my life. Instead, I leave with a withdrawal slip and her hopes that I’ll re-register next semester.

I hear Charlie’s truck pull into the driveway. He’s late. Again.

I’m in the kitchen trying to keep myself busy. That’s all I’ve done since I made it back home. Now every surface in the kitchen is covered in baked goods, and I’ve got dinner in the oven. My mind hasn’t given me the courtesy of quieting down though. The baby, my marriage, and my education have gone up in smoke. My life is falling apart in front of my eyes, and the only thing I can think to do is make brownies.

It’s safe to say if I haven’t cracked completely, I’m pretty damn close.

After waiting in the truck for several minutes, probably dreading seeing me, Charlie walks past me and drops his keys on the counter. He doesn’t say a single word. He moves through the house, avoiding me.

The shower kicks on. Normally I wouldn’t even question it, because with his job he gets really dirty, but that was before he started staying later and later every night.

I really don’t know what he was doing those few weeks we were apart. Maybe he started seeing someone new, or maybe he just doesn’t want me now that there’s no baby tying us together.

Like everything else, I shove down my worries and check on dinner. Of course, my lasagna is perfect. I also made a tossed salad and garlic bread. As far as coping mechanisms go, avoidance isn’t doing either of us any favors. The scary fact is, Charlie and I need to have a real talk tonight. No more tip-toeing around the status of our marriage. If this is going to hurt, I need to face it now before the pain catches up to me.

One thing I know for certain after losing my mom is that numbness doesn’t last forever.

“Charlie, dinner is ready,” I call out as I walk into the bedroom.

He’s staring at a piece of paper from my pile of schoolwork. He holds it up to me as if I don’t already know what it is.

“Why do you have a withdrawal slip?” he asks. There’s an edge to his question that has a bite of anger to it.

“Because, according to my advisor I’m too far behind, and she wants me to withdraw and come back next semester,” I explain.

He swallows hard. There’s a hardness behind his brown eyes. I don’t know how such a warm color can appear so cold, but I’m watching him pull away from me.

Charlie drops the paper and I watch as it floats on its way to the floor. “We need to talk,” he says, stealing my line.

I bite my lip and nod. Though, now I don’t want to talk anymore. This isn’t going to lead to anything good. I may have miscalculated my ability to recover from yet another blow.

“I made dinner,” I say and gesture toward the kitchen.

His jaw hardens. I’m not sure how me making food has offended him, but it appears he’s determined to be pissed off tonight.

“This isn’t working, Hattie. You need to go back to school,” he says.

My eyebrows scrunch together. “That’s what I’m doing,” I agree and look pointedly at my stack of books.

“We’re not good together. I think we wanted this to work so bad we tried to force it, but the truth is we’re too different. You’re always going to be ten years younger than me. We’re just at two different places in life. I think it would be best if you return to your apartment.” His voice is flat and devoid of emotion.

I think maybe part of me always feared this day would come. That’s why I’ve continued to pay rent for a place I haven’t lived in for three months.

My fingers clutch desperately at his shirt. “Don’t do this, Charlie. I don’t believe this is what you want. Everything was great until I lost our baby. The doctor said that I can get pregnant again. We will have a family someday.”

He grabs my wrists and pulls my hands off of him. “You were supposed to be a casual fuck. You’re great, and I think I let myself believe it could be more. The truth is we were tied by the baby, and there’s no more baby. It’s time for me to find a playmate my own age, and for you to go back to your classes.”

My eyes fill with tears, and I look up to the ceiling willing them not to fall. Not yet. Not in front of him. I won’t beg him to change his mind, but there’s one thing I need to know.

“Is that where you’ve been late every night this last week? While I have been laid up, recovering from almost dying when I lost our baby, have you been out fucking other women?”

He doesn’t say anything, not even to deny it.

Almost dying didn’t even hurt this bad. Death has finality, an ending where nothing matters anymore. When a relationshipdies, somehow your heart doesn’t actually stop beating, even though it feels like it should.

I shake my head. “What a disappointment you turned out to be.” I shove all of my books haphazardly into my book bag.

“I’ll pack my things tomorrow when you’re at work.” I don’t wait for him to say anything. What could there be left to say?

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