Page 107 of Nothing But It All
Jack has been gone most of the day. He popped in for a quick shower after visiting his dad. Seeing that Maddie and I were settled, he took off shortly after.Where did he go?I either didn’t hear him tell me or I forgot in the chaos of the day.
Being face-to-face with the aftermath of Maddie’s breakup, coupled with Jack’s absence, has left me vulnerable. My brain keeps throwing up flags.Am I being smart, sliding right back all in with Jack?I had managedto get on the other side of this in my own life. I made it out of the heartbreak and became someone I really liked.Should I really reverse that?
Is that a good decision for me?
Yes. Yes, it is, and I’m certain this is the way forward. For me. For us. For our family. But I can’t shake the memories of feeling similar at home. Alone and sitting in the middle of a pit of sadness.
The door opens and I turn my head, cringing at the stab in my temple. Jack comes in with a distant look in his eyes.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.” His voice is hollow. “How is everything here?”
I sit up.
“Is Maddie doing okay?” he asks.
“She just went up to get a shower. I think she cried herself out.”
He nods.
“I kept her from texting Daniel a hundred times,” I say. “She just wanted to ask him why he did this. Just to say hello. To tell him she’ll wait on him.”
Jack lifts a brow.
“I know,” I say, sighing. “I did my best to convince her that was not the way to go.”
He sits on the edge of the chair next to the fireplace and blows out a breath. The soles of his shoes are muddy, and there’s a stick stuck to the side of his shorts. Although curious, I don’t ask him about it.
“Are you okay?” I ask instead.
“Yeah. Why?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. You seem a little preoccupied.”
He scrubs a hand down his face. But before he can answer me, Maddie joins us in the room.
“I feel a little better now,” she says, curling up beside me.
With a side-eye pegged on Jack, I smile at her. “I’m glad. Are you hungry?”
She shakes her head. “My belly feels rotten.”
“You have to eat, Maddie.”
“I will. Just not now.”
She leans her head on my shoulder and curls her legs up beneath her. I blow out a breath and watch my husband over the top of her head.
My stomach ripples at the sight of him, elbows rested on his knees and a frown on his handsome face. Something happened today.But what?
The scene triggers a million thoughts in my head. In turn, those set off a billion internal reactions that have me shifting from nausea to panic to anger to desolation.
I wish my marriage were solid enough that one wonky afternoon wouldn’t be enough to make me second-guess everything, but it’s not. Suddenly, I’m afraid I bought into the second-honeymoon phase a little too soon.
Of course our problems are still present. It’s ludicrous to think they could disappear because we want them to.
But what is the problem now?
