Chapter Twenty
TERESA - JOHNSTON, NY
Teresa swallowed hard, her heart ricocheting against the walls of her chest. She was sitting on the edge of their bed, and Frank was in the doorway. He looked hesitant, keeping some distance between them.
“Teresa, what’s going on?” he asked, leaning against the door.
The kids were downstairs, listening to music.
Teresa could hear the Pink Floyd song “Comfortably Numb” wafting up the stairs and couldn’t help thinking that was exactly how she felt.
Like she was drifting through her life. Numb.
But she didn’t want to be numb anymore, dammit.
She was anything but comfortable. She needed to confront Frank once and for all.
Teresa had to summon the courage because once this was out in the open, there was no going back.
Now that she knew there were lies sitting just beneath the surface of her marriage, she wanted to know them all, no matter how much it might hurt.
Every single one. Lies, even small ones, piled up until they eventually toppled over.
“Frank, that’s a good question to start with. What’s going on with you? Really going on? And please don’t lie to me. I know something isn’t... right.”
Frank shifted his eyes to the side as if he was deciding which way he wanted to go—to deny it or come clean.
She was afraid he would say the thing she feared the most. If he says it, does that mean I’ll have to leave him?
Or will he want to leave me? She wondered if there was a way for them to stay a family for the kids.
Teresa stood up and took a step toward Frank.
She nodded, encouraging him to speak up.
She needed to hear every word of what he had to say.
If she didn’t, she would talk herself out of believing it.
And as much as it hurt like hell—as if someone was punching her in the stomach repeatedly—she needed to hear it to convince herself that what she’d suspected for so long was real. Even if it would tear them apart.
“There’s nothing wrong, Teresa. I’ve got a lot going on with work.”
Frank had chosen denial. She wouldn’t accept it. Not this time.
“No, Frank, that’s not it, and you know it.” She stared at him, and this time, he met her gaze and didn’t look away.
“What more do you want from me?” There was an edge to his voice—a defensiveness.
He stepped into the room, pointing at her.
“I provide a good life for you and the kids.
If not for my hustling, you and the kids would have nothing.
You'd be just another Italian girl from the West End of New Rochelle, living next door to her mama with a drunk of a father. And all you do is nag me and act ungrateful while getting fatter and fatter.”
Teresa sucked in her breath and took a step back, feeling for the bed behind her to steady herself. She felt dizzy. She couldn’t believe it. Frank was going on the attack. It was so unlike him.
She took a few deep breaths to gather herself then stood back up, facing Frank directly.
“How dare you! I’m the glue that holds this family together.
I take care of the kids, the house, and more, while you go gallivanting with who knows who, doing who knows what.
I may be an uneducated West End Italian girl, but I'm no idiot, Frank. I know what's going on.”
She felt the deep disappointment that comes from being intentionally wounded in one's most vulnerable place by the person one used to trust.
“So you won't give it up, this life—going out constantly, leaving me and the kids all alone? Making a fool out of me? You think people don't know what's going on, Frank? Who do you think you're kidding?”
Frank glared at her, his hands fisted, a strange glint in his eyes, like a bull ready to charge.
He’d never been aggressive physically, but then again, she’d never confronted him so squarely.
But he didn’t move closer to her. Instead, he collapsed onto the bed, leaned forward, put his face in his hands, and started sobbing.
He looked young and lonely and vulnerable, like a boy who’d just watched his beloved dog get hit by a car.
“I’m sorry, Teresa. You know I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry.”
Half of Teresa wanted to gather him in her arms. The other half wanted to batter him with her fists.
She stood there, paralyzed, letting the two sides battle it out.
Deep in her gut, she hurt for him. This was her husband, and she could see that he was devastated.
But her heart was breaking for herself and for Anthony and Lena.
She was feeling stronger and stronger in her conviction that she deserved more.
She deserved to be someone's priority, not to be caught up in his confusion.
If Frank being who he really was meant they had to be apart, she was coming to terms with that.
But as the minutes flew by, sobs racking Frank’s body, Teresa’s own body lost tension. She deflated—however unwillingly. She’d never seen him cry like this. What pain he must be in. What horrible, harrowing pain.
He looked up at her, his face twisted in torment, and she realized she was crying too.
Fat tears escaped her eyes and made their way down her cheeks.
She walked over to Frank, put her hand on his shoulder, and pulled his head into her stomach.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, burrowing his head into the extra flesh around her midsection.
She stroked his hair and said, “Shhh, shhh” over and over, torn between feeling a maternal need to comfort her sobbing husband and awkwardness at doing so.
In her heart, she knew that if Frank could change, he would have.
He wasn’t doing it for sport, but because it was who he was.
And no amount of love she could give him could change that.
Frank was broken inside, and all her love couldn't fix it. Nothing could fix it. He would constantly tread water, trying to keep his head above the surface so he wouldn't get pulled down under. And for years, she’d been holding onto him with one hand on him, in the water, and one hand on the shore. And she didn’t even know how to swim.
Yet here she was, the lifeboat that kept them both afloat.
Well, it might be time to let go. Frank would either go under or drift out to sea without her, but Teresa needed to stop trying to swim and plant herself firmly on the ground.
Anthony and Lena needed her to be strong.
They would need her even more if she and Frank parted and the reason for it got out.
Teresa untangled herself from Frank and left him in their bedroom to gather himself. It was a long time before he emerged. When he did, he joined her in the upstairs hall bathroom and looked her straight in the eye, putting his hand over hers.
“Teresa, my God. What you must think of me. You’re so strong.
I'd never survive what you’re going through.
And it's killing me because I'm the one causing it.
You're my best friend, and I haven't been able to talk to you about.
.. things. So many things. I've distanced myself from you, thinking I was protecting you. Please forgive me. I love you. I can't stand that I’m hurting you.”
She pulled her hand back and crossed her arms. “Frank, decide what it is you want.”
“I want my family. I don’t want to lose you.” Frank exhaled deeply and ran his hands through his hair, a gesture she’d loved since the first time they’d met.
How hard she’d fallen for Frank. Like jumping off a cliff.
Nothing could have kept her from leaping.
And the memory of that time, when she’d felt so much promise in her heart, made her cry again.
Teresa couldn't stop the tears. Stupid heart. Doesn’t it know he hasn’t really been yours to cry over for a long time now?
Frank reached over and wrapped her hand in his.
“We’ll figure it out, Frank. I don’t know what that means just yet, but we will. But you have to be honest with me. That’s all I ask for now.”
He kissed the back of her hand. “Okay, you want the truth?” Frank shook his head and then nodded sharply as if convincing himself to continue. He let out a ragged breath. “It’s over. I swear. That other thing...” He waved his hand. “I ended it. No more, Teresa. I promise.”
She felt relief wash over her, mixed with utter exhaustion. She and Frank were tired and worn. Their ruts were so deeply cut into the road that she wasn’t sure they could steer themselves anyplace new.
“You’re really going to be able to do that, Frank?” She didn’t know how realistic that was. She wasn’t the one struggling with this.
“Yes. I can. I will.” Then he added, “I don’t want our family to end. I couldn’t bear it.”
She nodded and looked out the window at the trees swaying in the wind, which seemed to echo how she felt.
Unsteady. Then she turned back to Frank.
“Well, I couldn’t bear it if you started doing this again.
I love you. I love our family, but I can’t take living a lie anymore, Frank.
If anything happens again, I don’t think I could take it.
Do you understand what I’m saying? What I mean? ”
She couldn’t speak the words aloud—I would leave you. But they were there between them.
“It won’t happen, Teresa. I won’t let it,” Frank said.
Their marriage had come to this—her begging her husband not to have an affair with a man.
It wasn’t the type of love story she’d envisioned years before when their relationship held so much promise.
Teresa couldn’t help wondering if theirs was becoming what some people called a marriage of convenience.
She didn’t want that. That was not why she’d gotten married.
But so many women she knew were trapped in inconvenient, or even dangerous, marriages to men who were drunks, drug addicts, physically abusive, or just nasty.
By comparison, Frank’s attraction to men didn’t seem so horrible.
She thought of Joanie and how reconciled she was to the situation. She’d given up and let it go on right under her nose, giving tacit permission. Teresa didn’t want to become a mirror image of that—a sad, defeated woman, allowing herself to live a lie because she didn’t have the courage to leave.
She remembered Joanie’s words: “Then I guess we’re the ones who’re trapped, aren’t we?”
Teresa shuddered. She couldn’t let that happen.