Page 10 of A Very Miller-Cooper Life

I jumped at the sound of the door slamming behind me. I didn’t mean to close it so hard, but I was pissed. The thing was, I didn’t know who I was more pissed at—Reagan or myself. I shouldn’t have called the graphic she showed me a doodle. The truth was, it was absolutely amazing. I always knew Reagan was talented, but not that talented. In all of the time we’ve been together, she had never shared this side of her. A supportive wife would have told her all of that. Not me, though. I had to turn it into a fight about money and how hard I’m working. It’s almost impossible not to at this point though. I’m barely a functioning human these days, because of this stupid job. I don’t want to resent Reagan, but there’s a part of me that can’t help it.

Then there was that comment she made. I could tell she regretted it as soon as it left her lips, but it was too late to take it back. She said it, and if that’s how she truly felt, I didn’t know how we could come back from that. My mom and I were working on our relationship, and the birth of the triplets certainly seemed to help, but so many of my deep-seated issues started with her. If I was like her…I shook my head.Reagan is wrong. I’m nothing like my mother.

A part of me wanted to turn around and walk right back inside so Reagan and I could work this out, but I had a bad feeling that if I did that, it would only be a temporary fix. Things had been so up and down between us since the move and I didn’t want to make up and have it be a temporary high, just like last weekend. I wanted to figure out how toactuallywork this out—not just this fight, but all of the issues we’ve been having.

How was I supposed to figure that out though? It’s not like there were magic words that would suddenly fix everything. I felt like I was grasping for straws.

I needed to talk to someone, but who? My family was out. My parents would obviously automatically take my side—even though they’ve come a long way, I could tell they still held resentment toward Reagan as if she was the only reason why I’m gay. Jamie and Nana were the opposite. I was sure they wouldn’t hesitate to take Reagan’s side, and I didn’t need someone to make me feel worse than I already did.

That’s when it hit me. I took out my phone and tapped on the contact whom I had no doubt could help me in this situation.

“Charlie! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Kennedy asked when she answered her phone.

Kennedy and her wife Skylar had been two of our best friends since we met them at the beach a few years ago. Since they had technically been separated and on the verge of a divorce when we met them (but now are still very happily married), they understood the toll that a relationship can take on you. They knew what it felt like to constantly fight to the point that you weren’t sure what else to do. I didn’t think my issues with Reagan were at that level, but I also didn’t want them to get there.

“Reagan and I have been fighting a lot.”

“You’re not thinking about…”

Kennedy’s voice trailed off, but it didn’t matter, because I knew what she was thinking. On my wedding day, she told me if it ever got to the point that Reagan and I were fighting a lot, I needed to call and talk to her, rather than doing something rash like threatening a divorce (a mistake she had made in the past).

“No, no. It’s not that bad, but I wanted to talk to you before it became that bad.”

“That’s very smart of you. I wish I had done the same. It definitely would have saved months of heartache.” We were both silent for a moment before Kennedy spoke again. “So, what’s up? What’s been going on?”

“I think I’m starting to resent my wife, and that’s the last thing I want.”

“Okay. And why do you feel that way?” The soft knowing tone of Kennedy’s voice caused my body to relax for the first time in what felt like months.

“You know how I switched to that corporate optometry job when we moved?”

“Of course. You joked how that company was known to steal your soul and rip out your heart, but also paid their doctors a lot of money, so it was worth it.”

I cringed as I thought about how I once actually believed any amount of money was worth the complete crumbling of my mental health. “Well, it turns out it’s not a joke. It also turns out that it’s not worth the money.”

“Are you going to get a new job?” Kennedy asked, as if it were actually that simple.

“That’s the problem. I can’t, because I’m the one who is making all the money right now. I wake up every day with a lead plate in the pit of my stomach, because I’m dreading work so much. Even on days I don’t work, I still feel sick just thinking about going back. Meanwhile, Reagan is at home, not an ounce of stress surrounding her as she pursues every passion imaginable to try to figure out what she wants to do next.”

“Just playing devil’s advocate here, but are you sure Reagan isn’t stressed?”

“How could she be?” I asked with a scoff. “She gets to spend hours every day enjoying our children while her mom helps her with everything, and even with her mom’s help, she still can’t take the time to find a job.”

“Okay.” Kennedy was quiet as if she was considering everything I had just said. “I can definitely see how that would be frustrating from your end and I am in no way taking sides, but since I figure you called me to help you see theother sidein this situation, I’m going to do that. When it’s you and Reagan at home, working together to take care of the triplets, is it easy?”

I scoffed again. How could she even ask that? “Not at all. No matter what I do, whether I’m at work or at home, I feel like I’m in a constant state of drowning. I’m not even living anymore. I’m just trying to survive.”

“So, even with two adults, you’d say it’s pretty tough to take care of three young kids, right?”

“Of course. It’s—” I snapped my mouth shut when I realized what Kennedy was getting at. “Okay. Touché.”

Kennedy laughed lightly, but there wasn’t a hint of judgment in it. “Have you asked Reagan how she’s feeling? Like not just a simple‘hey, how are you?’but how she’sactuallydoing. You obviously know your wife better than me, but I can’t see Reagan being completely laid back about letting you do all the work.”

“I’m not doing all the work,” I said quickly, finding myself becoming overly defensive over the woman I had essentially been saying that exact thing about ever since we moved.

“I know.” There was a hint of cockiness to Kennedy’s voice, but it wasn’t of the ‘I told you so’ variety. It was confidence in knowing she was getting her point across.

“Okay. You’re right. Maybe I haven’t been completely fair to Reagan. But I feel like I try so hard to hold in what I’m actually going through so I don’t make her feel bad, but it always ends up backfiring because I get to the end of my rope and snap at her.”

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