Chapter 39
It’s Friday night, our date night, and I didn’t bother getting ready.
We haven’t talked all week, so there is no hope of us going out.
But all day, there was a slight hope that he would text me and tell me he wants to go out.
Or hell, even tell me he wants to talk. I feel like I’m the one who did something bad, and I need to apologize to him about the way he’s acting.
But why should I apologize, and why do I even want him to talk to me after how he’s been?
My heart says one thing and my brain says another.
Those two organs are in a tug-of-war that I don’t want to be a part of. But I am because they’re a part of me.
He’s been distant before, but this is on a whole other level. Even if he’s mad that I accused him of cheating, why can’t we at least talk about it? He accused me and Ezra of sleeping together and I didn’t treat him this way. Ezra didn’t even treat him like this. It doesn’t make sense.
Rya hasn’t talked to me much either, and I wonder if it’s because she and Ezra are doing better.
I’ve been meaning to call her and tell her what’s been going on, but then I stop myself because she seems to be doing good after what she held in for so long.
I don’t want to ruin the high she’s been on since then.
Hours later and Zayn still hasn’t come home. I’m still not surprised because of the way he’s been acting. I had a feeling he would go out with his friends. It hurts to know he didn’t let me know, even if we’re not on the best terms. It’s almost as if he has no respect for me anymore.
I scroll through Netflix again, trying to find something else to watch.
By this time, I’d be fast asleep, but tonight it’s different.
The anxiety is building inside me, and it won’t let me relax enough to drift off.
It’s been like this all week. Even after Haley’s comment the other day, I realized how much it was affecting me.
I don’t know why Zay not coming home is bothering me when I had the biggest feeling he wasn’t going to come home.
I was let down by something I knew wouldn’t happen.
Another movie ends and still no Zayn.
I say fuck it and call him. Even though I have a feeling he won’t answer. I don’t want to be let down, so with each ring I don’t get my hopes until it goes to voicemail.
I set my phone down and the soft hum of the TV is the only sound that fills the entire house.
Even though there is so much distance between us, I still want to hear from him.
I keep scrolling through Netflix like it’ll somehow make time pass faster, so he’ll be home.
Every movie I watch, my mind keeps circling back to him.
His distance.
His absence tonight.
Each time I glance at the clock, I question where he is, what he’s doing, and why he’s not here with me, even if things are falling apart.
The unease in my stomach grows the later it gets. My eyes flicker to my phone every second, like that is going to somehow magically make him call or text me. He’s not going to. So, why do I still worry? At least when he went out last week, he told me.
I drag my fingers through my hair, feeling restless.
I head for the bedroom and lie in the dark, hoping that will help me fall asleep.
As soon as I rest my head on my pillow, the sound of a door shutting echoes to the room.
The uneasiness I felt all night settles a little knowing he’s at least home and not doing God knows what.
He proved that the smell of his shirt was from my perfume. With everything going on, I can’t help but feel he might have been with someone else tonight.
Again. My gut tells me one thing; my heart tells me another.
I wait here in the dark, waiting for the bedroom door to open and see him walk through the door.
It feels like it’s been forever since he got home.
Maybe he has drunk munchies. Usually, I can see some light shine through the crack of the door from downstairs.
Right now, there is no light. I’m sure he wouldn’t have any consideration right now to eat in the dark in case the light woke me.
A sharp, aching hurt pulses through my body as the reality sinks in that he chose to sleep away from me.
It shouldn’t surprise me, not after how distant he’s been all week, but it still cuts deeper than I expected.
The space between us feels heavier than ever.
I keep replaying every moment in my head, wondering what pushed him so far away from me.
But honestly, I’m tired of guessing. I’m tired of feeling like my husband is a stranger.
Now, he can’t even stand to sleep next to me.
The thought makes my chest tighten, and I can’t help but wonder if there is more to this distance that I’m just not seeing.