Thirty-three #2
“If you’re more focused on Sarah’s happiness and enjoyment in life rather than her safety and security in the undying love of her husband, then your focus is way off base.
If you and Sarah are so stuck on having fun that you can’t love each other when the fun dries up, then you both need to seriously grow up.
But I don’t believe for one second that Sarah left because you aren’t making her happy.
” He puffed a breath, his voice bewildered.
“That girl is one of the most loyal individuals I’ve ever met in my entire life.
If she left, it’s because you hurt her.”
My voice rose in frustration. “The only thing she wants is something I’m incapable of providing.”
“And what’s that? Spell it out.”
“The old Peter.” Why was he not understanding? “No one gets it. Everyone acts like it’s so easy to just—”
“I didn’t say a thing about easy. If it was easy, we wouldn’t say vows in the presence of witnesses.
It’s hard to put your own hurt and grief aside in order to love someone else.
” He continued, “But you, as a man, are called to put her first in everything and pursue her until your final, dying breath.
You are to go to any lengths to protect her and hide her in your love.
Not send her out into the world and hope she finds someone better.
If she needs a more deserving man, buck up and be a more deserving man.
“This is where I got to shoot straight with you…you’re too far in.
You’ve let too much time go by without pulling on your boots and doing the hard thing.
And now, your marriage is dissolving because of it.
If you don’t stand up and take some responsibility for your lack of action, you’ll be the one living with regrets. ”
The weight of his words pressed into my shoulders, weighing me down.
I braced my elbows on my lap and propped my head in the palm of my hand, sighing deeply as a sickening hopelessness curled through my stomach.
“But I don’t know how to be stronger when I’m drowning.
It feels like you’re asking me to do something impossible. ”
He gave a soft chuckle. “Honestly, I think my son-in-laws might be right on target.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Tag and Jesse put you in a situation where your pride couldn’t back down.
And maybe that was exactly what you needed.
” His voice softened. “Son, the only way to tackle a journey is one step at a time. If that means putting on your pants, then put on your pants. If that means getting out of bed, then get out of bed. I don’t care if it feels like fire from hell—just do it.
Because every time you push yourself beyond your limits, you strengthen your soul for the next impossibility.
You working at the ranch is a great idea.
I’d bet my last penny you’re going to find out real fast just how much you can actually accomplish. ”
And I knew it was true.
Because I never would’ve thought myself capable of throwing hay bales or mucking stalls but I’d done those things and so many more. I blinked against the sting in my eyes. Maybe, if given time, those accomplishments would give me the confidence to try again with Sarah.
Emotion laced his voice. “You’re not alone. You’re surrounded by people who love you. And you’re so much more capable than you realize. You can fix this, Peter.”
I fought the way hopelessness pooled in my chest and weighed down my shoulders.
As if he could hear my despair, Dad said, “Life is a continuum of chances. No matter how dark it gets, there’s always a new day. As long as there is breath in your lungs, you have the opportunity to change. Don’t waste it.”
Chills erupted over the back of my arms because I knew what he would say next.
He whispered, “Dum spiro, spero.”
The latin words engraved on the leather bracelet my parents gave to me on my sixteenth birthday had become a mantra for us during that time. I had just started chemo and was already losing clumps of my hair. For Dad to say them now made my chest ache.
I repeated them in English, blinking against the fresh tears in my eyes. “While we breathe, we hope.”
Drawing a sharp breath, he switched gears.
“If you want my advice, here it is. You wanted space and now you got it. So don’t twiddle your thumbs and perpetuate the problem.
If you want to believe you’re capable of loving your wife, start by loving the people around you.
Doing for others is the fastest way to stop feeling sorry for yourself.
And, finally, reconcile with whoever you can as soon as you can. One fire at a time.”
I took a deep breath, nodding to myself. One fire at a time was a doable action plan. Even if I never reconciled with Sarah, I still had to reconcile with my family.
“And for heaven’s sake. Talk to Bea. She’s been worried sick about you.”
“Has she really?”
The evening Sarah left the ranch, Bea had barged into the fifth wheel uninvited, demanding explanations. As close as we were, we’d never fought as adults—ever. But she was outraged about what happened Saturday night and let me have it. I’d avoided her ever since.
Dad told me he loved me then we said our goodbyes.
Then I sat there—motionless on the barrel as personal responsibility hit my heart like a freight train.
But a dull sound above my head startled me out of my thoughts.
The low thud, thud of someone’s feet moving in the hayloft, toward the ladder.
Sitting up straight, I swiped my hand over my cheeks and sniffed a couple times.
A body heaved through the loft opening and climbed down the ladder, ushering in a fresh waft of dry hay.
“Hey, what’re you doing?”
Cooper.
At the sound of his voice, I relaxed against the wooden wall behind me, which greatly confused me but I didn’t have time to question it.
Ever since he attacked me in his sleep, we hadn’t harassed or berated each other.
There seemed to be a truce of sorts. I wasn’t sure what changed or why we dropped our weapons, but in one swooping moment, I was glad we did.
I answered, “I was talking on the phone. I thought I was alone.”
“Gotcha. I read in the hayloft after dinner most nights.”
Ah, so that’s where he went.
I said, “You probably heard my entire conversation.”
“Nope. I use ear buds while I read and half the time I accidentally fall asleep.”
“What are you reading?”
“I just finished To Kill a Mockingbird.”
Oh, so he read classics? I couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling behind my lips. “You sure you’re not an eighty year old man?”
“Last I checked.” Cooper chuckled.
As he turned to go, my dad’s words rattled in my head.
One fire at a time.
I hadn’t considered Cooper a fire in my life, but in that moment, I realized I liked his company and didn’t want my current instability to color his ongoing opinion of me. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t have been half as rude as I’d been with Cooper the last few days.
“Hey, Cooper?”
He turned back. “Yeah?”
“I just wanted to say…I’m sorry for being such a pain in the ass.
” I scraped up my energy, taking all the responsibility I possibly could.
“I’ve purposefully made stuff more difficult than it needed to be by complaining and dragging my feet.
I’ve been taking my misery out on you. And I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. ”
Cooper was silent for a couple seconds before he said, “Yeah, well, I’m no saint, Peter. I’m not looking for a confession.”
“But I needed to apologize.”
He hesitated, a little uncomfortable. “Then I hope it made you feel better.”
With that, he turned and walked away. And the darkness pressing against me felt a little lighter.