11. CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 11
Rose
" M iss Rose, that's just about the best meal I've ever eaten," Kyle Adams, one of the B how are you?"
"I told you to call me Rose, Mike. Is Willow okay? God, did I say something to hurt her feelings? You'll tell her I'm so sorry, won't you? I never—"
"Rose, you didn't say anything wrong. Willow is sad because…well, because she's been a bit of a bitch to you."
"Don't you dare call my daughter a bitch," I cried out.
He laughed. "I wish you were my mother, Rose. But the truth is that Willow has been a bitch. And Jude's been an asshole to you. Willow gets it now, and she's horrified with herself, as she should be."
"My kids are not like that, Mike—"
"Yes, they are. That's why you left. I saw with my own eyes, and I wasn't surprised when you walked away, but your kids and husband were."
Since I didn't have anything to say to that, I remained silent. Maybe they weren't surprised, but I doubted they were missing me. Jude never had, and Gray didn't even notice I existed, so why would he start feeling my absence now?
"Rose," Mike said.
"Yes, I'm here."
"I wanted to ask if we could come see you for Christmas."
I was shocked when he said that. "But I thought y'all would go to Atlanta to be with Gray."
"Yeah, so I'm not a big fan of your husband or Jude right now, Rose, no offense. But if you would be open to it, Willow and I would love to spend the holidays with you."
I swallowed. "Mike, Gray will—"
"It's either that, or we stay in New York."
Mike didn't have family and that would mean they'd be alone. I couldn't have that. "No, no. You should come here. You can stay at my friend's B everyone in your house is getting big degrees. You got to be proud of that."
I was , but the problem was that they weren't proud of me. They were ashamed of their mother, who wasn't as smart or educated as them.
"Who'd think Black it was the same, I'm busy why are you disturbing me tone.
"Aimee. She said you were busy, and she'd let you know."
"Okay. I'm…sorry, I—"
"Gray, Willow called me, and she and Mike want to spend Christmas here at Angel Island, or they said they'll stay in New York. I said yes, but I didn't want you to feel blindsided. You should talk to her and Mike."
"I don't want to talk about Christmas," he ground out. "I want to talk about us. What the fuck, Rose?"
I licked my lips. "Gray—"
"You just left with no way for me to contact you."
"I sent you a text message with my number days ago. You never got back to me."
"What?" I heard him rustle around, and then he was back on the phone. "Fuck. I didn't see that."
Like he never saw any of my messages ever . I wasn't a bitter person, or at least I tried not to hold on to resentment, and I hated to say things that I'd regret later. Which is why I kept my anger in check to the point that I never let go. But right now, something snapped inside me.
"Of course you didn't. You never see any of my messages."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what I said, Gray. I called to let you know Willow and Mike will be with me for Christmas, and I…you know what? The hell with it. You talk to your daughter and figure this out. I'm done."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah, Gray, I'm done. I'm so tired of being there for y'all, and no one's ever there for me. I don't know—"
"I have always been there for you," he yelled. "You got knocked up, and I fucking married you. What more do you want?"
Oh, but the heart could break again and again and again.
"Yeah, Gray, you did me a huge favor. But staying with you for twenty years, raising your children, keeping your house, and warming your bed while you ignored me, I think is enough payment for that favor , don't you think?"
This wasn't me. I didn't talk to anyone like this. I didn't know I had it in me. Malou would be proud. Hell, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself.
"What's going on? This doesn't sound like you. Is Malou putting you up to this? Fucking with your family so she has someone with her while she's…."
"While she's dyin'?" I finished for him, hating him right now. "Yeah, that was her ploy: get breast cancer at the age of thirty-five and have it spread by thirty-nine so that she could have me around her right before she died. Can you hear yourself?"
We never fought. I never questioned him. I made peace. But I was so tired of being the one who had to back down and make concessions. I was tired of never being heard or seen.
"That came out wrong, Rose. I'm sorry. How is Malou?"
"Like you care, Gray."
He had the decency not to say he did because I knew he didn't.
"I care about how it affects you, Rose," he replied softly. "How are you?"
"I'm fine. Leah told me she met with you. Ah…let me know what you want to do with the car."
"It's paid for, Rose. Just keep it."
"I can't afford the insurance on it, and I have Malou's truck."
"I'll pay for your insurance."
I'll pay . He always said that. My money . Never ours . Never us , always I and me . Twenty years I'd stayed with this man, and I'd have stayed twenty more, and what a waste that would have been.
This conversation was all the proof I needed to know I’d made the right decision by leaving.
The first time he talks to me in three weeks, he's yelling at me, accusing my friend of dying to keep me here.
"No. Take the car. I'm not using it."
"Burn the fucking thing then."
"I can sell it and send you the money," I offered. "I don't know how much it will sell for here but—"
"I don't give a shit about that measly amount of money. And you don't need to pay me back the fucking five thousand."
I sighed. Pay me back . He could've said , we were married for twenty years; my money is your money, or …anything else but that . He always saw me as other , not part of his life or his world. A wife who was pulled out of the box on special occasions in public. The wife who he fucked into the mattress. Oh, we had a good sex life, but it wasn't love , now was it? I didn't have his respect; I'd always known that, but it had taken me years to understand that I could never have his love if I didn't have his respect. In any relationship, those two went hand in hand.
"Is there anything else?" I asked, dejected, tired.
"Yeah, you can get your ass back home, Rose. I'm not divorcing you."
Hope bloomed in my chest despite all the warnings I'd given myself. "Why?"
"Because I say so. Already everyone is thinkin' I'm sleeping with my assistant, we get divorced they'll think it's true."
Hope shriveled. "So, you want me to come back so people don't think you're having an affair?"
"I don't care why you come back, just come the fuck back."
He didn't respect me. He didn't respect my feelings. He didn't respect my heart. I didn't know what to say when everything inside me wanted to simply die because this pain was shattering in its intensity.
"Rose, we're married. We have two children. Come home and we can talk, figure out how to fix whatever you think is wrong?"
Whatever I think is broken?
I wanted to hurl the phone against the wall. I was angry. But what was stronger was the deep, deep grief I felt as I finally understood that my marriage was over .
All the hope, I’d tried unsuccessfully not to have, had been a dream. Nothing had changed. Gray hadn't missed me while I was gone. He wasn't heartbroken. He was angry. He wanted his wife back, not Rose, but Mrs. Rutherford. Well, fuck that!
"You don't think anything is wrong with our marriage?" I asked, my tone harsher than I wanted it to be.
"No," he said immediately. "Our marriage is fine. You're overreacting, as you always do. Please tell me you don't think I'm cheating on you?"
Did I think that? No, I did not. But the truth was that he didn't respect me and our marriage, so why shouldn't he be sleeping with Aimee or any number of other women? And even if he did or did not cheat, it didn't change the state of our marriage.
"I'm not overreacting, Gray. I am, however, finally reacting." He wouldn't validate my feelings, so I had to do it myself; otherwise, I'd go back to him and be miserable all over again. "I don't want to be married to you anymore."
"How are you going to live your life, Rose? You have no money, no education. So, what the fuck are you going to do?"
I felt my past crumble along with my present. All these years, I waited and sometimes even believed that he saw me as a partner, but he never did. He saw me as someone beneath him, someone who was with him because I had no money and education. I had told Leah I didn't want any money, but a part of me had thought that Gray wouldn't want his ex-wife, the mother of his children, to be destitute—that he'd insist I take some money so I could be comfortable. I should've known. Mama Rutherford had told me that the prenuptial agreement was airtight time and again, and it looked like Gray wanted to abide by it.
When I didn't speak, his tone went soft, cajoling. I was familiar with that, too. Usually, I felt cared for, but now, I felt manipulated. "Rose, come on home, babe. Here is where you belong."
He'd never know the strength it took to walk away because he didn't even believe I had walked away. He thought I was having a snit. After knowing me for so many years, he didn't really know me. I wouldn't have left if it wasn't necessary for my survival.
I decided to give him my truth.
"I'm not happy in our marriage, Gray. I'm not happy with you. I've been so unhappy that I go to bed every night wanting to die and every morning wishin' I had. I'm afraid if I stay with you one of these days, I will make that wish a reality."
"Are you saying that I make you so miserable that you want to commit suicide?" The anger in his voice poured through the phone.
"This isn't about you . It's about how I feel ."
"You know what, Rose, I gave you everything. A great house and anything you ever wanted, and this is your thanks? You say that I'm such a fucking terrible husband that you want to kill yourself. So, fine, do whatever the fuck you want to do. I'll sign the damn papers and send them. Keep the car and the five thousand dollars. You fuckin' earned it."
He hung up.
I set my alarm, put my phone to charge on the bedside table, and went to bed.
In the dark, I let the tears fall.