6. Oscar
Oscar
"Iwant a separation."
For a second, I was sure I misheard her. The restaurant was busy, and there was a din of conversation in the air. She couldn’t have said it. She had no reason to say those words. I waited for her to repeat herself, but she said nothing.
I want a separation.
The words echoed in my head, forcing me to accept what she said. But why? Things were great between us, always had been. There had to be a reason for it.
"Who is he?" I asked.
Ruby laughed. Actually laughed. As if I said a joke even though there was nothing funny about this.
"There's no one, Oscar. God. I can’t believe you think that."
"Then why? We’re out to dinner, everything's fine, and you hit me with this between the bread and the steak?" My voice was climbing, and I brought it down, not wanting to make a scene. "You planned this. You picked a restaurant on purpose so I couldn't react."
"I didn't plan anything. I didn't know I was going to say it until I said it."
"People don't just say something like that."
She sighed. "I've been saying it for years," she said. "You haven’t been listening."
"That's not fair. When? When have you ever sat across from me and said the word separation?"
"Not the word. The rest of it." She had her hands folded on the table, very calm, and the calm was the part I couldn't get my footing on.
"I've told you I was unhappy. More than once.
Many times. And things get better for a couple of weeks, you try, and then you slide right back to where you were and stop hearing me again. "
"I don't ignore you."
"You do all the time. You did it last night."
"Last night?"
"Yes, last night. In the car. On the way to Cipriani." She tilted her head. "When was the last time I told you something, and you actually heard it?"
"This morning, last night, all the time. I hear everything you say."
"You heard me say Jeremy and I were going skydiving and then robbing a bank on the way home from Fallingwater?"
I opened my mouth and shut it. She had to be making that up. She didn’t say that.
"Fallingwater?" I asked. "Is that what this is about? You want a separation because I didn't want to drive five hours to look at some house?"
"It's not ‘some house’. And no, this isn’t about Fallingwater.
" She paused. "Not completely at least. It's a thing I want, and you can't be bothered.
I've spent twenty-three years doing things because you wanted to do them.
Sitting through dinners, going to games, learning the names of people I'll never see again, all because it mattered to you. You've never done that for me."
Again, I opened my mouth to say something, to argue with her. But I drew a blank.
I worked, I provided, I built the life. Wasn’t that enough? Did I have to sit in a car for five hours just to see some historic house too?
The waiter brought our food over and set it on the table.
“Can I get you anything else?” he asked.
Yes, my wife back.
“No,” I said.
Ruby thanked him and picked up her fork and started eating as if it was the most normal thing in the world. How could she eat?
* * *
"I don't understand how you can be so calm," I said in the car. "You're sitting there like we just had a nice night out. You're tearing us apart and you seem fine."
"You're being dramatic."
"Am I?"
She looked out the window and didn't answer. We drove the rest of the way like that, her watching the dark go by and me gripping the wheel and trying to figure out where things went wrong.
I pulled into the garage. Neither of us moved for a second.
"I can't believe you're doing this," I said.
She turned to me, but she wasn't calm anymore.
"You keep acting like this is brand-new information.
It isn't. You know I've been unhappy. I've told you over and over again.
Did it ever matter to you? Do I matter to you?
" Her voice caught. She hesitated, then pushed through it.
"Because I keep thinking if I did, you'd hear me.
You'd care when I say I'm unhappy. And you wouldn't keep putting me down in front of other people like it's no big deal. "
"I don't do that," I said. "You're too sensitive. You always have been."
She scoffed, looked like she was going to say something, but then turned and got out of the car.
I followed her into the house. She went straight for the stairs. I was right behind her, still talking, sure that if I found the right words I could turn this around the way I turned everything around.
She stopped on the third step and turned to face me, holding her hands up.
"You can stay in the guest suite until you find another place," she said.
She turned and continued up the stairs.
I stood at the bottom of the curved staircase, watching her. I couldn't move. My mind spun as I tried to find the right words. The wrong ones came out of my mouth.
"I should find another place? Who paid for this house? Not you. This is my house!"
She didn't stop. She didn't turn around. She didn’t even hesitate. It was as if she didn’t hear me, but I knew I wasn’t that lucky. A door closed above me, softly.
I wished it was a slam. I wished she showed more emotion than this calmness. That’s what scared me the most.