Chapter 5
I REMOVE THE plastic wrap from his dinner plate and place it in the microwave.
It’s after nine, and he should be home at any minute.
I put the kids to bed at eight thirty as usual and rushed into a hot shower.
I brushed out my hair and applied a little gloss to my lips.
I put on my silky robe and changed into my nice underwear.
After I ended my call with Gwen, I seriously thought about all Mike and I have been through.
There must have been a reason we were together, and I need to try harder to make it work and be more of the wife he needs, to be there for him and support him.
Maybe once he sees how hard I’m trying, he’ll try harder too.
I take the plate from the microwave and position it neatly on the table.
I hear the garage door open and I jump. Roscoe barks lightly to warn me he’s heard a noise.
I pat him on the head nervously. Mike and I haven’t been intimate in over six months, and I’m really putting myself out there, hoping he’ll still be attracted to me.
He opens the door and Roscoe rushes to him, tail wagging.
Mike doesn’t bend to pet him, and after a few seconds, Roscoe trots away.
His tie is hanging loosely from his neck and he seems tired.
I feel bad for giving him a hard time earlier.
He places his briefcase on the dryer and strolls into the kitchen.
His eyes dart to me as he notices I’m waiting for him.
“Hi,” I say.
He nods his head at me as he takes out his wallet and places it and his keys on the kitchen counter.
“I’m sorry about earlier today,” I continue. “Things were just really crazy and I was close to losing my mind when you called.”
He stares at me briefly, not saying a word. He ambles toward the stairs.
“Mike,” I call out to stop him.
He sighs and turns to face me. He’s already two steps up.
“I made you a plate. Are you hungry?” I ask as sweetly as I can muster.
“I ate at the office.” He turns and continues up the stairs.
I stare after him for a moment in disbelief.
It’s not how I saw the night going. I make my way to the table and glare at his plate of food, trying to decide if I should put it in the fridge or throw it away.
If he sees I threw it away, he’ll say I’m wasting his hard-earned money.
I re-cover it and place it in the fridge.
I consider pulling out the kids’ lunch bags and making their lunches for school tomorrow but think better of it and decide to try to talk to him again.
I head up the stairs and toward our bedroom. He’s standing in a t-shirt and his boxers in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. I lean on the doorframe and cross my arms.
“Rough day?”
His eyes meet mine in the mirror’s reflection, and he nods as he spits out his toothpaste. “As if you didn’t know.”
I sigh. “I said I was sorry.”
“And I heard you the first time,” he responds as he wipes his face with a hand towel and hurries past me.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realize I look as ridiculous as I feel. Am I trying to seduce him? What am I even doing?
I turn on my heel and follow him to the bedroom. He’s setting his clock. It’s only nine fifteen and he’s going to sleep. That’s odd.
I don’t know what to do with myself, so I sit on the edge of the bed.
“Is there something you want, Everly?”
My eyes fall to the floor. Can’t he see I’m trying? “I wanted to talk to you,” I respond. “I hate how awful things are between us and I hoped to try to make things right.”
“And you thought a silky robe, a dinner plate, and a little conversation would be enough to do that at this point?” he questions with a squint of his eyes.
I glance down at my toes. At least I haven’t destroyed those nails. I raise my eyes to his. “Yes?”
He stares at me for a moment before the corner of his mouth curls up on the side. “Is that all you’ve got?” he asks playfully.
My heart staggers briefly at the thought that he might still love me and still want me. I stand and courageously begin to untie my robe. He jumps up and grabs my hands.
“That’s not what I meant. I’m tired. I just want to go to bed, okay?”
I nod sheepishly as he releases my hands. He looks me over briefly before he rubs his chin and turns back toward the bed. I can feel tears prick my eyes as I blurt out, “Do you not love me anymore?”
He swirls around in frustration. “Do we have to do this now? I said I’m tired.”
“It’s a simple question, Mike. Answer the question. Do you love me?”
“Yes… Yes, I love you. Okay?”
It’s not okay. “Fine, you love me, but are you in love with me?”
“There’s no difference,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Yes, there is. I’m your wife and you haven’t touched me, or even tried to touch me, in six months. What’s that all about? I thought all men wanted sex. If you don’t want it from me, is it because you’re getting it somewhere else?”
He starts to laugh. “With the hours I work, you really think I have time to get anything from anyone?”
“Well shit, Mike! That’s not a no!” I shout.
“No, Everly. No, I’m not having an affair if that’s what you’re asking. I’m working my ass off to provide for this family and I’m tired. All the fucking time.”
My eyes dart to the floor. “I know you are. I know you work hard. Thank you. Thank you for all you do for us.”
His eyes meet mine for a moment, and I see a hint of surprise in them.
“I know I don’t say it enough, but I appreciate you,” I add.
“Thanks,” he responds skeptically. He pulls back the covers and climbs into bed. He reaches over and turns out the light. I’m left standing in darkness. I turn on my heel as I clench my robe to my chest and head toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
I stop in my tracks and answer without turning. “To make lunches.”
“I thought you wanted me to touch you. I’m in bed. I’m waiting for you.”
I feel confused. Part of me is still hurt and part of me is relieved that he wants me in bed with him.
I’m not sure I want it anymore, but I turn and head toward him anyway.
I climb into bed next to him and he reaches out his hand to untie my robe.
A surge of adrenaline shoots through me at the thought of his hands on me. It’s been so long.
He pushes the robe away from my skin and I’m immediately tense and self-conscious.
I’m not wearing a bra, just my lacy underwear.
It fits snuggly, and I’m aware there are rolls of fat in unattractive places.
I try not to focus on my worries. After all, we’re married.
I trust he can see past my flaws and know that inside, I’m the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago.
He removes the covers from himself and pulls down his boxers before he sits up to remove my panties.
I giggle a little as he shrugs them off of me.
I feel his mouth on my breast as he sucks my nipple into his mouth.
I attempt to reach for him, but he lifts my hand over my head.
Even when he lets it go, I leave it there for a moment, thinking it’s where he wants it to stay.
I hear a condom wrapper tear and he’s inside me.
It isn’t the foreplay I’d hoped for, but the warmth of his body and his hardness inside me feel so good, I let it go.
He slowly starts pushing into me. I reach up to touch his face, letting him know I want him to kiss me.
He leans down and kisses my cheek, then my neck, but not my lips.
It bothers me, but I say nothing. I focus on the feeling of him inside me and his hands tugging and twisting savagely at my breasts.
He picks up the pace and pushes faster and harder until he’s pounding me forcibly.
He’s rough, and although it almost hurts, I can feel my need building.
I’ve never been one of those girls who comes during sex and he knows it, but having him inside me feels so good.
Just to know he wants me… I feel him harden and he stops. He sighs and I can tell he’s done.
He rolls off me and onto his back. I turn toward him and kiss his chest. He pants as he yawns. “Do you want me to…?” He motions toward my vagina.
I’m not sure how to respond. I thought it was obvious by the way I grabbed on to him and moaned. “If you want to?” I ask hopefully.
“I do, but I’m just so tired.” He yawns again. “You understand, right?”
I don’t know what to say, so I just nod.
He kisses my forehead and rolls onto his side, away from me.
I lie there for a while, thinking he’ll reconsider, until I hear him begin to snore.
I slowly crawl out of bed and plod into the bathroom to pee.
I consider touching myself, but I don’t.
I stand in front of the mirror and stare at the girl inside.
I feel cheap, like trash. I feel worse after being with him that way than I did not being with him at all.
I wanted to make love, but I had sex. No, actually, he had sex.
I had nothing. I wash my hands and head back downstairs to let out the dog and make lunches.
After I put everything away and turn out the light, I start back up to bed.
I can hear him snoring and realize I don’t even want to be near him.
I slowly tread back into the kitchen. I pick up my phone from the counter, set my alarm, grab a blanket from the closet, and curl up into a ball on the couch.
I think of pulling out the romance novel I’ve been reading to get my mind off of how hurt I feel, but hearing about a strong woman who overcomes her problems and ends up with the man of her dreams is not what I need right now.
I feel hopeless. I’ll never be one of those people.
I’m destined to live this life. I love a man who doesn’t love me back.
I’m alone. I want to cry, but I can’t. I’m numb. I’m just numb.