Page 10 of Lust in Translation

“Give and take,” I say, repeating her words. I’m going to have to give if I’m going to keep him.

“I don’t know if I want to stay. Does that make me a bad person?”

She shakes her head. “Not at all. But you need to make a decision sooner rather than later because dragging him along isn’t fair. You’re a bad person if you don’t exhaust all options first. That means giving a bit. If there’s any hope of things working out, you need to be intimate with him. In whatever way you can both agree upon.”

“It just scares me,” I say, looking down to the wrinkled silk. “I can’t go through that again.”

She sighs. “When I counsel a couple after infidelity, and they want to make their marriage work, I tell them to fall back into intimacy as quickly as possible. That connection is integral in repairing the damage.” She clears her throat. “With your situation, you needed time to heal physically and mentally. No one can tell you sufficient time has passed, but the fact that you’re moving on into a new career and are seemingly finding a new groove, is making him antsy. Can you understand his feelings?”

Completely. Utterly. My distraction just put a ticking time bomb on my marriage. Sighing, I agree she’s right. Adam comes back into the room, but refuses to say anything further. He’s upset, rightfully. He blows through the door leaving me to schedule the next appointment. The car is already running when I open the passenger door and slip inside.

Give. Give. Give. Give. Give if you want to keep him. Our uncomfortable silence lasts the entire car ride. Entering the house, I hang my cold weather wear on the rack and lock the front door behind us. Adam is already in the kitchen opening a beer.

“Adam,” I whisper, breath shaky. It’s been so long. The more time that passes, the more awkward and unbearable the thought of sex becomes.

“What? I’m over talking for the night, okay? Unless you have a revelation to share, please just leave me alone.” He flops down on the sofa and turns on the television. Something he hasn’t done since I’ve known him. Adam is always too busy working. Too busy trying to make a life for us for leisurely activities.

“Can, we,make outtonight?” My words are tentative.

He laughs. “Sounds like you’re really hankering for that.”

I deflate. “I’m trying to do what she told me to do.”

He stands, approaches, towering over me. Face wilted completely. “Don’t you understand? I don’t want you to do it because she told you to do it! I want you to want to make out with me. Come through the door, see me, and not be able to keep your hands off me because you want me so bad!”

He shakes his head, snarling. “Leave things the way they are until you figure it out, okay? Remember, you’re the reason we’re in this predicament right now.”

My heart throbs, heavy and painful. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His hair brushes his eyes as he shakes his head. Adam has never said anything remotely mean about the situation we’re in. He sure as hell has never placed blame on me. My whole body turns to ice. “Answer me,” I yell.

He spins, a calculating glare dancing across his face. “It means you wanted to get married. You forced me to marry you because of the pregnancy.”

Finally. This is happening. The irreparable sever is occurring in this moment. “You didn’t want to marry me?”

Adam deflates. “Of course I didn’t. You know that. You remember the conversation.” He glances up to meet my gaze. “But here we are and I’m trying to honor my goddamn vows even though I feel like they mean shit to you.”

“You could have told me this earlier. Like the day at the courthouse when we applied for the license. Or any second that passed after. Why now?”

“Why now? Because you’re moving on, getting better, but we are,” Adam says, motioning between us, “But we are not.” He runs his hand through his hair. I see the second his anger turns to guilt. I’m not angry at him for telling the truth, I’m angry it’s not enough for him to cut his losses. Somehow him admitting he didn’t want me as his wife makes me want to be a wife he does want. That seems very messed up, but that’s par for the course in this goddamn disaster.

“More time. I need more time, that’s all.” How are you supposed to figure out a future that is so unlike the one you initially planned? “I’m getting better and then we can get better as a couple. In our relationship. You know this is rough on me. It’s not like I love torturing myself with the what ifs”

“How am I supposed to know that? I’m starting to think you do love torture.” Why couldn’t he bring this up an hour ago? When I had someone to help me. A professional who mediates. Adam waited purposefully. He’s a smart man. “You don’t talk to me. You tiptoe around this house. You try to be invisible. I see you. I see everything.”

I swallow hard. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.” I shrug. He just admitted out loud that our marriage is an epic sham. I should feel something more than exhaustion. I should feel sad.

“Go to bed.” Adam paces back to the sofa and throws himself down.

Well, that went swimmingly. I retreat to the bedroom. I lean my head against the closed door and slide down to sit. Noel catches my eye from the dresser. “Why can’t I get anything right?” I whisper. He didn’t want to marry me, but I’m going to make him glad he did—make him regret ever speaking those words.

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