Chapter 9
I'm driving back home from the hotel when I get a call.
It's from Daniel.
At first, I don't pick up because of my anger, but then I remember what happened so long ago when I didn't pick up that call from my mother. So, I pick up.
"Hello?" I say into the phone.
Keeping one hand on the wheel, I set the phone on the dock, and it automatically connects with the car.
I'm actually driving the car myself right now just because I feel like it.
I like being in control, and feeling the push and pull of the car makes me feel like I'm letting off some steam.
One thing about living here in Colorado is that the view is absolutely pristine.
It is something that I'll always appreciate.
"How are you doing?" Daniel asks through the speakers.
"Fine," I say.
"Are you sure?" he asks. "Because I know what today is."
I'm actually surprised. I didn't expect him to remember what today was at all. I almost want to cry, and sudden tears start blurring my eyes. I can't even say anything.
"Hello? Are you there?" he asks.
I just hiccup and wipe at my tears. I finally hit the button to set the car to self-drive, leaning back in the driver's seat as the steering wheel takes over. I rest my legs and grab a tissue from the compartment to wipe my eyes.
"Are you crying?" Daniel asks.
"Um… yeah," I admit. "Today's been hard. Yesterday, too."
"I was trying to give you some space," Daniel says.
I shake my head, even though I know he can't see me. "I don't really want space, though. I feel like all we have is space, you know?"
"Yeah," he says quietly. "I know."
“I… I’m sorry for fighting with you,” he quietly admits.
Wow. He actually apologized? Hearing that, I just decide to ask. I can't keep it inside anymore.
"Daniel, do you want a divorce?"
He goes completely quiet.
"Why would you say that?" he finally asks.
"You're not happy."
"That's not true," he says.
But I feel like it's a lie.
"No," I say, sniffling. "You say that, but your actions don't show it.
I'm trying to do everything to make you happy, but I can't make you happy," I say, my voice cracking a little.
"I'm a person. A person can't make another person happy.
Sure, we can try, but clearly... I mean, I don't know.
I thought we were happy together. But if I'm somehow making you feel—"
"No," Daniel interrupts. "Melody, stop. It's just stress from work. I promise."
I swallow hard, staring out at the pristine Colorado view as the car drives itself.
"So there's not someone else you wanna be with?" I ask.
"Melody," he says flatly.
"No. Please," I rush out. "I'm not gonna—you're not gonna get in trouble or anything.
Because, like, if there is someone you wanna be with, I don't wanna stand in your way.
But you can't have your cake and eat it too.
I would rather let you go so you can be happy with this person, and I want to be happy too.
Give me the opportunity to be happy with someone else. "
"Is there someone else that you want?" he asks.
"No. There isn't," I say, shaking my head even though he can't see me.
"It's just... I'm lonely, Daniel, and I don't know.
Like, the house is really big, and I can't clean...
and I just feel—I don't know what to say.
I'm sorry. I'm not in the right mindset, and I feel like every time we try to talk about things, you run away or you get mad at me.
It's like I can't talk to you. You're my husband, and I can't talk to you.
And we used to be able to talk to each other, and I feel like you're a stranger.
I feel like that house is not my home, and I'm sorry I'm venting and throwing all of this on you, but you have to understand. "
Taking a deep breath, I wait as the car comes to a stop at a red light.
"It doesn't feel like you're my husband," I add, the tears spilling over. "I feel like you hate me or something."
Taking another breath, I wait for him to respond as I cry and try to gather my emotions.
"I'm sorry," Daniel says through the speakers a little softer.
"If you want to talk face-to-face, we can. I'm at home, so get home safe, and we can talk. Okay?"
"Okay," I say, and hang up.
When I eventually get home, I'm so nervous. The front door opens automatically when it scans my face, letting me in. Daniel is somewhere in the house, but I don't know where. I'm not gonna call out for him. If he's actually interested in talking to me, then he needs to come and find me.
When I walk through the front doors and enter the big house, as much as this place usually feels strange, being away from it for a little while actually makes it feel like home.
Standing in the foyer, I look at the table with the lamps on it.
Looking to my right, I see the grand piano sitting right in that little nook near the fireplace study.
All the books are lined up on the white bookcase, and there's a drink sitting there, like Daniel had just been using the room.
The fireplace is going. The comfort I get from that is fleeting.
Still not calling out to him, I make my way down the hallway instead, heading straight past the dining room.
Daniel is in the living room, where there's another fireplace going. He sees me, smiles, and gets up from the couch. His smile looks tired, though. Like he doesn't really want to be here.
And when I look back at him, all I feel is that I'm looking at someone I've already lost.
.--.--.. .--.---- .---..-- .---.-..