Lily
Ethan and I still hadn’t had a proper conversation about my birthday dinner incident.
I was too pissed off and drained to sit through another round of excuses.
I needed a day to detox from his bullshit, to cool down before I said something I’d regret.
So, he spent the night in the guest room.
But this cannot go on. We have to talk about this, whether we want to or not.
Our relationship has felt like it’s spiraling downward, and I was at a loss for how to bring us back from this low point.
We haven’t been intimate for months. I missed his laugh, the subtle touches, the playful smacks on my butt as he walked by me.
There were no more kisses before he left for work or when he came home, and none in between.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he found me unattractive.
I was no longer a size six, but I had embraced my curves that came from being a mom of two.
The key turned in the lock. My shoulders stiffened, snapping me from my thoughts. The door creaked open, and there stood Ethan, my husband. He was so handsome, even with his messy hair and disheveled clothes. But that ever-present knot in my stomach tightened. This conversation was happening.
He didn’t notice me at first, turning on the small lamp by the entryway.
“Welcome home,” I said from the couch.
He jumped at the sound of my voice. “Jesus. Lily, why are you sitting in the dark?”
I stood up and stepped toward him. “What do you think? I was waiting for you.”
Like always.
He sighed heavily, running a hand through his tousled, golden hair, frustration etched across his face.
“Ethan. No more excuses. I need to know what the hell has been going on with you these past few months. Be honest and tell me the truth.”
He lifted his head to face me, his shoulders tensing. “What are you implying, Lily? Are you accusing me of something?”
I crossed my arms defiantly, meeting his stare head-on. “Is there something to accuse you of?” I challenged.
Ethan sighed. “Of course not, Lily.”
He started to walk away, but I said firmly, “Please don’t walk away from me, Ethan.”
He paused, resting his hand on the banister. “I don’t want to fight, Lily. I’m tired. Can we discuss this tomorrow before we say things we can’t take back?”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “That’s what you always say, yet it never happens. You leave before I’m up and come home while we’re asleep.”
I took a step closer. “We are having this conversation. Now.”
He turned to face me fully.
Taking a deep breath, I softened my tone to ease the tension in the air. “You’ve seemed so different lately, and I’m worried about you.”
He looked away, his jaw clenched. “I don’t need you to worry about me.”
“That’s too bad because I’ll never stop worrying about you, Ethan.” I closed the distance between us, reaching out to touch his face. But before my fingers could make contact, he withdrew. My heart plummeted to my feet.
“You don’t want me to touch you now?” I whispered.
“Lily, I’m tired, alright? It’s been a long day,” he said, sidestepping the question.
I swallowed hard, dread settling heavy in my chest. The question had kept me awake for nights, circling endlessly through my mind. I didn’t want to ask it, but I needed the truth. “Is there someone else?”
His expression softened, though exhaustion still shadowed his face. “No, Lily.”
I threw my hands up. “What am I supposed to think, Ethan? Something is holding you back from being here with your family. You need an excuse to be away from your family?”
“No, Lily, I don’t need an excuse to be away from any of you.” He flinched. “No, no, I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I just meant that…” His voice trailed off, his gaze skittering away from mine, unable to meet the raw fury in my eyes.
“No, Ethan. It’s exactly what you meant,” I snapped. “It’s exactly what you’ve been doing.”
He turned back to face me. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re never home, Ethan! You work late every night. You barely answer my text messages, and you never seem to have time for us. And you missed my birthday! What is going on?”
He met my gaze, and for a fleeting moment, I saw pain in his eyes, but it was quickly covered by frustration. “I don’t know anymore, Lily.”
“What does that mean?”
“What do you want from me?” He stormed past me toward the living room.
“I want my husband back!” I shot back, taking after him.
He whirled around, his face a mask of raw anguish.
“What husband, Lily?! What husband are you even talking about?” He threw his hands up.
“The one who’s never home? The one who can’t even bother to respond to your texts?
The one who hasn’t kissed his own kids goodnight in months?
Who hasn’t touched his fucking wife in months?
Is that the husband you want back?!” His chest heaved, every word laced with a brutal cocktail of self-loathing, shame, and agony.
“Ethan—” I started, my voice catching.
“I missed your birthday, Lily! Your birthday! What kind of man does that?” He cut me off, his voice cracking. “I’m a piece of shit.”
“No, you’re not,” I said firmly, stepping closer.
“Yes, I am. And you know what?” He barked a harsh, humorless laugh. “You deserve a better man than me.”
“Don’t you dare say that,” I croaked. “I love you, Ethan. I... I want us to communicate. To get back to how we used to be. To us. To Ethan and Lily.”
He took a step, closing the space between us, and cupped my face in his hands. His touch felt like a lifeline after months of emotional starvation. I closed my eyes, leaning into it, trying to soak in the warmth of the man I loved with all my soul.
“I love you so fucking much, Lily,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his thumbs tracing my jaw. “But you deserve so much more than what I can emotionally offer you right now.”
“Ethan, please,” I begged, tears finally spilling over. I reached up, placing my hand over his, pressing it harder against my face. “Let’s go away. Anywhere. Just the two of us.”
He shook his head slowly, his gaze slipping from mine as if looking at me hurt too much. “I can’t, Sunshine. You know I can’t. My job... It’s my life. It’s become the only part of me I know how to control.”
“And what about us?” I whispered, afraid of the answer.
“You’re my heart,” he whispered, his eyes meeting mine, filled with an unbearable sorrow.
“Don’t you see? I don’t feel like I’m enough for you anymore, Lily.
I’m failing you as your husband, failing our kids as their father, and I don’t know how to give you the parts of me that are already gone.
” He leaned down, pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead, and stepped back.
I waited, begging for a flicker of recognition of what we once were, a sign, something, anything.
I was ready for him to fight for us, to tell me he would do better, that things would be different from now on.
But what I really wanted was for him to look at me like he used to, to see me, and to remind me, over and over, how much he loved me.
To take me upstairs and make love to me until the world made sense again.
But he didn’t.
He. Did. Nothing.
His gaze, that had gone from broken to cold and distant, sliced through me as he brushed past me. He stomped up the stairs and locked himself in the guest room, leaving me alone, drowning in every question he refused to answer.
Ethan
“Hi Ethan,” Emma said, her voice piercing through my thoughts. I lifted my head to find her standing in the doorway.
“What are you still doing here?” I slumped back in my chair with a glass of bourbon in my hand.
She stepped into my office. “I was worried about you and saw your light on. Are you okay?”
No. I was not fucking okay. I had been a wreck since the fight with Lily the other night. Three nights ago. Three goddamn nights sleeping in the guest room, and we had barely exchanged words.
I wish I could undo what I said.
I had been consumed by shame and overwhelming regret for what I spat at her, every venomous word, because I’d hurt the one I love deeply.
That guilt ate at me every moment. But what obliterated my soul was the way her face crumbled.
To witness the light in her eyes being extinguished when I told her that half-truth that she deserved someone better.
But the image of someone else’s hands on her, someone else’s laughter filling her world, was drowning me, and I didn’t know how to breathe through the pain.
Emma settled into the chair across from me, her posture relaxed.
The hem of her gray skirt edged higher as she crossed her legs, and my eyes inadvertently dropped to her light-pink button blouse, which hinted at the delicate white lace beneath.
Something a married man should not notice.
I cleared my throat, determined to keep my focus on her face.
“Are you drunk?” she asked with a concerned tone.
“Not enough,” I muttered, taking another swig.
“What’s going on, Ethan?”
I swallowed and sighed. “I fucked up with my wife, Emma.”
“How?”
“I missed her birthday,” I said, the bitter laugh scraping its way out of my throat. I took another drink, though it did nothing to dull the shame. “Then I told her she deserved someone better. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I walked away from her.”
I walked away from my Sunshine after promising her I never would. That’s one of the million promises I’ll always regret breaking.
“I’m sure she understood you said it out of anger,” Emma said. “Maybe apologize the right way this time.”
“And say what?” I scoffed. “Sorry I chose work over you again. Sorry I chose everything else and everyone else but you and the kids.”
I shook my head, the room spinning slightly. She wouldn’t forgive me for this. Missing out on their lives was a betrayal. Their laughter. Game nights. Movie nights. Hanging out at the beach.
“You made a mistake, Ethan. You’re being too hard on yourself,” Emma whispered as she took a step closer.