Page 56 of False Start
Zhanna: Don’t you dare play coy with me.
I shut my phone off and crawl into bed without removing my clothing or makeup. I’m suddenly bone tired and hurt beyond imagination. It’s like Bryant turned into someone else when we were over there. He’s never been a discourteous or unthoughtful person. He’s quite the opposite, but tonight, he disgusted me with the way he behaved with Priscilla.
As I’m about to drift off, Bryant barges into the house and slams the door. “Zhanna!”
I pull the cover over my head. I told him I didn’t want to see or speak to him. I want to be calmer before I say something I don’t mean out of anger.
“Zhanna! Baby!” he shouts as he rounds the corner to our bedroom.
I throw the covers back, pissed he isn’t listening to me. “I said I don’t want to speak to you.”
“Well, tough shit. You hauled ass out of my friend’s house with no explanation. You think we’re not duking this out now? You’ve lost your damn mind.”
I spring from the bed as red hot anger courses through me. “Excuse me?!”
“You could’ve and should’ve told me you wanted to leave. I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what was going on with my own wife.”
“Youwere embarrassed?Youdidn’t know what was going on with your own spouse?”
He puts his hands on his hips. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means I walked right past you on my way out the door. You were too fucking busy letting another woman put her filthy hands all over you to noticeyour own wife. And if that isn’t bad enough, you tossed me to the wolves and took off to be alone with another woman. How fucking kind of you to worry so much about my comfort level in a brand new place around strangers I’ve never met before.” With every word I take a step toward him until I’m in his face and pushing my finger into his chest. “How fucking dare you come home smelling like her and accuse me of embarrassing you.”
“Zhanna,” he says and reaches for me.
I swat his hand away. “You are in the wrong here, not me.” I walk past him, grab his two pillows, walk them back over to him, and shove them in his chest. “Now, you’re more than welcome to stay the night on the couch, but you will not come to this bed after the way you behaved tonight.”
“You’re kicking me out of my own bed?”
“No, I’m kicking you out of our bed. And don’t you dare act indignant. You would’ve flipped your lid if you’d walked in on me behaving the same way. And if you ever put me in the situation again, I’ll do the same thing I did tonight and leave. I don’t have to be subjected to a bunch of catty bitches out to fuck my husband, and I sure as hell don’t have to hang around and watch you allow them to paw over you like I’m not standing in the next room.”
“Your jealousy is juvenile and unbecoming. I appreciate you leaving before you acted like this in front of the others and embarrassed me even more.”
If he’d slapped me, it would’ve hurt less. I open my mouth to respond, but the pain his words cause takes root deeply inside me. My voice fails me as the tears come once again. How am I the bad guy in this situation? How does he have the right to be mad? I close my mouth and turn on my heel before he hears the hurt in my voice. In three steps, I’m locked behind the bathroom door, and I fall to the plush rug beneath me to silently sob.
We’ve always gotten along easily and well. An argument has never had a chance to form between us because we communicate well and often. There was a major breakdown in our communication tonight.
A quiet knock startles me. “Baby, shit, I’m sorry. Come out and talk to me.”
This isn’t a situation where a quick apology is going to fix it. It also isn’t one where I can talk to him without murdering him right now. And I sure as hell am not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me cry like a baby.
A light thud sounds against the door. “Fuck, Zhanna, please come out. I’m sorry I lost my temper.”
“Go away,” I manage to say.
“I’m not going away. You’re stuck with me, so you might as well open up.”
I let him sit on the other side of the door and plead with me to open it, but I need a minute to catch my breath after being on the receiving end of his anger. I’m not someone who can pretend it doesn’t feel like he sunk a dagger into my chest moments after being made to feel like I’m being childish after being the one who was wronged.
He eventually grows quiet, but I know he’s still on the other side of the door, so I curl up on the rug and cry myself to sleep.
— 20 —
Then
I HEAR BIRDS CHIRPING before I open my eyes and remember last night’s events. Sunlight streams through the frosted windows of the bathroom, and a muted light falls across my face. I stretch out as long as I can, cramped and stiff from sleeping in a ball all night on a hard floor. And all I want to do is hide in here for the rest of the day and avoid the hurt and pain already creeping back into my chest. It’s as though my heart remembers last night before my mind does, and the resulting ache is hard on my heart.
After I gather my bearings, I stand and open the door. Bryant falls inside and on top of my feet, so I step over to get away from him.
