Page 65 of Indulgence
“It was supposed to be a surprise.”
I nodded for a third time.
“Why?” It was several questions rolled into one. Despite this chasm between us, I could still read between Natalie’s lines.
I dug the corner of my nail into the wood of the arm rest on the swing. Which why did I answer first? “You made it clear that you didn’t think you could ever feel comfortable in our bedroom again. Selling the house would be a drastic decision, so I decided to see how this would help first.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” she asked.
“It was easier,” I said shrugging. “If I just redid the room and showed you, I’d hoped that it would make things less hurtful. I didn’t want you to think about the reasons we were redoing it. Just that it was a whole new room with new memories to be made.”
By taking all the decisions away from Nat, I thought she wouldn’t have to think about everything with Brooke anymore. The whole idea of this was to move past what went down that night.
“Knowing that you had it remodeled makes me feel . . .” She paused to think about her words, and my body braced for a battle. Maybe doing major home renovation without speaking with her first was a mistake. “Loved.”
Her words slammed into me, but for an entirely different reason. “Loved?”
She nodded.
“Had I not made you feel loved before?”
She shook her head and my face fell. “It isn’t what you’re thinking.” She rushed out. “What I mean is that when I saw that you changed everything about our room, it felt like the night all this began. It was that first night when you arranged a whole dinner and sex. I mean I get that I said I didn’t think I could return to the bedroom, but, to me, it felt like you were taking care of me when I couldn’t do it for myself. Even though I didn’t truly deserve your empathy and compassion. You knew I’d struggle so you shifted the burden from me to you. The room looks pretty and new. I love it and I hadn’t even seen the finished project. Now, when I think of the room, I can focus on the pink on the walls and the fan I always said I wanted during the summer. I can see you loving me even at my lowest.”
I’d always had an understanding of what Natalie needed before she did. It was part of the connection we had. It was part of what made us work so well together. It wasn’t hard to see that we needed to make some drastic changes to get the ball rolling in the right direction.
“I’m glad that you like it.”
“But?”
My eyes searched hers. “But we are ignoring the elephant in the room.”
“Ugh.” She groaned and slowly blinked, shaking her head. “Drinking and feelings and cell phones don’t mix.”
My hand instinctively went to her thigh. Her skin burned under my palm. “You needed to say all that, Natalie. You should have unloaded it days ago. It would have been a little easier to understand your behaviors. I didn’t know that you were feeling jealous of Brooke. I thought you were just angry and scared. If I had known you thought that Brook was just going to walk into my life and replace you, I could have assured you that would never happen. No matter what the situation.”
“Just because you say it doesn’t mean that I would’ve accepted it.” She sighed heavily. “Everything is a mess up here.” She tapped her head. “I can’t seem to cope with the fact that I did this to us. I can’t seem to see how to go back now?”
A sheen of wetness coated Natalie’s eyes, but she blinked it away quickly looking back out to the lawn.
I squeezed her thigh. “If we want to move forward, together, you are going to have to speak up about your feelings. We can’t live two separate lives and expect things to fall back into place. It’s killing me, Natalie.”
The wetness thickened in her eyes and collected in the corner. “I . . .”
She needed to understand that we couldn’t heal separate. We needed to heal together. “I’m a family man. My life is rooted to my family. I love my children. I love my wife. But for almost the last two weeks, it’s just been me. On my own. It’s like living this life I don’t want is sucking the life out of me. I feel like I’m a boat out to drift with no anchor. You’re my anchor Natalie. I couldn’t ever have a life that isn’t rooted to you and the one we’ve created.”
“How do we fix this?” She swiped a stray tear from her eye. “How do I accept everything I’ve done and move on? How do I live with this?”
All I wanted to do was pull her into my arms, stroke her hair, and whisper in her ear that we do it together. We put one foot in front of the other. We carve out time each day to have conversations. About our day, our feelings, the damn weather. Anything to show her that nothing is ruined, and we can be us again. Distance isn’t the answer.
It was difficult to tell what she was thinking. Her face was a mix of different emotions. Worry, sadness, and a pinch of happy. “I really do appreciate what you did with the bedroom.”
“You’re welcome.”
What else was I supposed to say?
She tucked her hair behind her ear and fiddled with the ends. It was something she did when she was nervous. “Maybe we could go for dinner when I get back.”
We sat there discussing a possible meal together as if we hadn’t been married thirteen years. I didn’t know whether to punch the wood I sat upon or cry. I was hoping that since Natalie let out her deepest insecurities and I’d reassured her of just how irreplaceable she was to me, she would come back home. Not offer to schedule me in for dinner the next day. But I guess it was a positive step and I needed to recognize she was trying.
