The Dear Wife (More Than a Wife Series Book 3), page 6
“I love you,” he got in before I could hang up.
I dropped my phone and fell back on my bed.
Chapter Eight
After a restless night’s sleep, I finally gave up and threw the covers off me in the early-morning light. What I had done was starting to really settle in. James’s words from last night were making me question my resolve. But then I thought about my children, especially Hannah. I needed her . . . again.
I crept into Hannah’s room and, as always, paused when I opened the door. I tried to catch my breath and remind myself that she wasn’t hiding under the covers and I wouldn’t be hearing her giggle any second now when she could no longer pretend she was sleeping. Her room remained untouched, as if the pause button had been pushed. Her trundle bed with the purple comforter covered in hearts and heart-shaped pillows still sat against the far wall under the window. I washed her bedding once a month still. Each time I begged myself not to remake her bed—to let her go. But I’d never been able to. I even came in to dust her dresser with the purple heart knobs James had made for her. Tears welled up in my eyes. I wanted that man back. So much.
I walked back and opened her white ruffle curtains, letting the light stream in. I took a moment to stand in the warmth and soak it in. I had woken up feeling cold this morning, even though it was already in the seventies and I had decided the air conditioner didn’t need to be set at arctic levels now that James wasn’t here. This was a different kind of cold. Like a lost and empty cold. I knew I had made the right decision, but that didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t mean I didn’t hate that there was one more person missing in this house. My person. The person I thought would be here after our children were grown and left the nest.
I picked up one of Hannah’s fuzzy pink pillows and held it to my chest. I felt like I didn’t do enough to protect my nest from predators. Not only had I lost Hannah and James, my sons were being sucked into the same dark world their father would rather live in. Matt had spouted off some of the same things James had used to justify his habits. It was what guys do. Well, it shouldn’t be. I thought I had taught them better—to respect women and themselves. I feared I would lose Jimmy and Matt too. It didn’t seem to matter how tight I held on; it wasn’t enough.
I set the pillow down and opened the closet door. I made myself not touch and smell all of Hannah’s clothes still hanging up as if they were ready for her. Instead I had a thought. I reached in the back of her closet and pulled out a clear garment bag that had protected Hannah’s christening gown for the past thirteen years. Hannah used to love to pull it out and admire it while I told her stories about the dress. How it was made from Sarah’s wedding gown. Sarah hoped that it would be a family heirloom to be passed down from generation to generation. That the love she and Joseph shared would be immortalized in the long dress made of satin and antique lace. My favorite parts were the real pearls from the bodice of Sarah’s wedding dress that were made into buttons for the christening gown. Hannah had looked like an angel in it. Now it was time for a new angel to wear it: Mia Hannah. Hopefully she would get to pass it down to her daughter like Sarah had intended for Hannah to do.
My fingers slid down the plastic cover while tears streamed down my cheeks. All I could think about were the tears James shed the first time he held Hannah. She owned his heart from the second they touched. He was more of a wreck with her than he was when Matt was born, like he was afraid he would break her. It was the other way around. First, she broke him in, making sure he knew exactly how she wanted everything done, from the way she wanted the crusts cut off her sandwiches to her required nightly piggyback rides to bed. She had the man in the palm of her tiny hands, and James loved every second of it. It’s why he broke when she died. I suppose we both did. We never got the pieces to go back together. But I never thought it would come to this. I thought we could remain broken together. That maybe our individual pieces could fill in for what each person was missing. Instead the pieces shattered, making it difficult to remember how they went together in the first place.
Amid my contemplation I was startled to hear my favorite name.
“Mom,” Jimmy’s getting-deeper-by-the-day voice shook me out of my thoughts.
I turned to find him leaning against the frame of the door looking like he could use a few more hours of sleep. It was unusual for him to be up this early, especially on a Saturday when he didn’t have either cross-country training or a meet. Though his blue eyes, red from crying, spoke to why he was awake. It broke my heart. I set the dress down on the bed and opened my arms. I knew I could do with a hug this morning. Jimmy didn’t hesitate. He was to me in no time. I embraced my man-child, and there we shed tears together. He was so much taller than me that his chin rested on my head. He shook in my arms from crying so hard.
“Jimmy, it’s going to be okay,” I tried to assure him and myself, not quite believing it. But eventually it had to be, right?
“I don’t want you and Dad to get a divorce,” he begged through shudders.
I held on to him tighter, not knowing what to say at first. “I don’t want that either. But, honey, you understand how serious it is what your dad has done, right?”
“I know what he did was wrong,” he cried. “But what if he promised to stop watching porn? What if I stopped?” The ache and guilt in his voice killed me.
I leaned away from him and placed my hand on his wet cheek. “Jimmy, I love you no matter what you do. You don’t ever have to question that. This isn’t your fault. This goes way beyond porn.”
Jimmy shifted his feet. I was sure he didn’t want to think about his dad with another woman. I didn’t either, but I was having a terrible time getting Claire and those messages out of my head. It was one of the reasons my sleep was so restless.
“Is Dad with Claire?” he hesitated to ask. He even closed his eyes as if that would lessen the blow.
“He says he’s not,” I said quickly to put him partially at ease. I myself wasn’t sure if I should believe James.
Jimmy immediately relaxed, which made me feel even worse when I had to say, “But he acted inappropriately with her. In a way no married man should have.”
Jimmy’s eyes all at once begged to know what that meant while not wanting to know. I watched him take a deep, courageous breath. “Did he have sex with her?” he whispered.
“He says he didn’t.”
“Then what did he do that was so bad?”
How did I explain this to a sixteen-year-old, especially one desperate for his family to stay together? I held my hand out to him. “Come sit by me.”
We both carefully sat on Hannah’s bed. Jimmy seemed uncomfortable doing so. The way his eyes darted around the room, I guessed he didn’t like being in here. I couldn’t blame him. I knew how unhealthy it was.
I kept Jimmy’s hand in mine while we sat down. “Honey, remember when that boy in Hannah’s third grade class was picking on her and you and Matt took it upon yourselves to have a chat with him?”
Jimmy smirked. “Yeah.”
“How did you feel when Hannah told you that boy was hurting her feelings?”
“Like I wanted to kick the crap out of him.”
“I remember. So . . . how would you feel if Hannah had been able to grow up and she came to you and told you that her boyfriend or husband was sexting—”
Jimmy cringed as if he didn’t like hearing that word coming out of my mouth or maybe he couldn’t believe I knew what that was. He’d probably die if he knew his dad and I used to. Those were the days. Days I couldn’t think about now because it hurt so much.
“Yes, I know what that means.” I nudged him. “But my point is how much that would have devastated your sister if she caught the man she loved betraying her like that. How would you feel about that?”
Jimmy hung his head. “Is that what Dad was doing with Claire?”
I rubbed his hand. “Yeah. Sort of. And he told her things about me that weren’t true.”
Jimmy’s hands started to clench, and his ears burned bright red.
“I’m not telling you these things to upset you or turn you against your father. I’m telling you so you can understand why I’ve made this decision. We wouldn’t want Hannah to be in that kind of relationship, right?” I choked up.
“No,” Jimmy cried. His tears dripped on my hands.
“But . . . what if Dad changed?” Jimmy was desperate to hold out for some hope.
I wiped some tears off his cheeks and looked into his sweet blue eyes. “Honey, I’ve wanted that for a long time, but your dad has broken a trust that I’m not sure can ever be repaired. He’s hurt me in a way that no one but him could. I want you to remember that when you fall in love. Because when you love someone, you have so much power, good and bad. Always choose the good. Please stop looking at porn, Jimmy,” I begged. “Not just for you but for the women you will love. It’s hurting you and them. And lots of women around the world. Think about Hannah. About how you would never want anyone to hurt her. Think about your mom,” I pled, realizing how much I wanted someone to think about how this had hurt me. How much I wanted James to see that, but he never did.
Jimmy threw his arms around me. “Mom, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” I held on to him tight. “We just need to find a way to make sure no one else in our family gets hurt by this. We can’t afford to lose any more people,” I eked out.
“I hate Dad for hurting you.”
“I do too, but we’ll both have to find a way to forgive him.” Someday. I leaned away and smoothed his cheeks. “I love you, Jimmy. We’re going to be okay. I promise you.” I wasn’t sure how, but I would figure it out. “It’s just going to be you and me around here pretty soon.” A thought that made me ache so much.
“Don’t expect me to watch all your chick flicks with you and get my nails done.” He gave me a crooked smile.
“Darn it, and here I thought it was going to be mani-pedi night every night.” I ruffled his blond mop.
He rolled his eyes at me before he sighed. “Dad texted Matt and me. He wants to see us today. What should I do?”
“Honey, just because we aren’t together anymore”—I could hardly say it for feeling like I was being sucker punched—“doesn’t mean that he’s not your dad. And I have a feeling he’s going to need you boys now more than ever.”
Jimmy’s eyes lowered. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t really care about me.”
Tears stung my eyes. I lifted Jimmy’s chin. “I feel that way too. I’m sorry.”
“Do I have to see him?”
I swallowed hard. “I won’t make you, if that’s what you’re asking, but give it some thought before you make your decision.” I pulled his face toward me and kissed his forehead and lingered. “I love you. I’m here for you anytime. Let’s discuss some new rules about phones and such later. Okay?” I needed to get ready for the day. Life still had to go on, and I had a bake sale to help out with.
“Okay,” he answered quietly. He stood and walked toward the door. He stopped and looked back at me. “I love you, Mom.”
“I’m going to need to hear that a lot,” I choked out.
He nodded and walked off.
I looked around Hannah’s room one more time and held her dress to me. I remembered Sam telling me once that divorce felt like a death but worse, because you lost that person knowing they didn’t love you anymore, and that reminder was thrown in your face constantly. I wasn’t sure if this was worse than losing Hannah. It was just as acute though. It hurt in other ways, ways I had never experienced. I’d been dealing with it for months now. I didn’t care what James said—he didn’t love me. At least not that way he should. I guess I had been holding out hope that he really did. How foolish I was. This was my reality, and as much as I didn’t want to face it, I had to for me and my children. I had to bury my marriage. And hopefully find a way to crawl out of its grave before the grief of it swallowed me whole.
Chapter Nine
Sam was a much-needed bright spot of my morning. I loved watching her on Weekend Musings every Saturday morning. I knew she hated it right now because she felt like she looked like a puffer fish on-screen, but to me she looked like a glowing mommy to be, albeit uncomfortable. I could tell she was desperately trying to not shift in her seat on the set that was made to look like someone’s cozy living room. I’d gone with her a few times, and it was amazing how different it looked live in a studio versus the small part you saw on TV. Today they were doing a question and answer segment with Sam, a.k.a the Sidelined Wife. They allowed viewers to call in and ask her questions.
I sat on my couch individually wrapping the cookies I’d baked for the sale today. They were cold sugar cookies in the shape of running shoes and decorated in Jimmy’s school colors of black and gold. I was proud of how the black shoes with gold laces had turned out. They tasted fantastic, too, if I do say so myself.
The cameras panned to Manny and Marla, the hosts of Weekend Musings. They were both painfully beautiful. Manny had daytime Latin soap opera actor written all over him, and Marla, with her curves and beautiful crown of ebony hair, looked a lot like the women James loved to watch. I grabbed my stomach. I didn’t want to think about it or see those images in my head, but they haunted me. I had to remind myself I was done competing with those women. I loved my body, at least mostly. I had forgotten that. This body birthed and nursed three beautiful babies and could run marathons. This body had loved a man with all its soul. This body was tired, but it was all mine. Focus on Sam.
“All right, everyone,” Marla purred, “it’s one of our favorite segments, ‘Take it Away, Sam.’”
“This is your opportunity to call in and get Sam’s take on everything from your love life to protein ball recipes.” Manny laughed. The man was so in love with himself and had charmed half of Chicagoland. He was newly single, too, from what Sam said. I guess his girlfriend got tired of waiting around for him to propose. Part of me wanted to say good for her, she saved herself, but that would be a lie. I loved being married. I would give almost anything if I could stay that way. But I would never give myself up again, and I knew that was the cost of being with James. It’s one thing to give your all when the other person does the same. But in that instance, you aren’t giving up anything—you’re creating a beautiful living entity of its own. But when only one person is giving, it sucks the life out of you, literally. I shoved a cookie in my mouth, trying not to think about it.
“So our first caller,” Marla snagged my attention, “is Allison from Naperville. Hi, Allison, what’s your question today?”
“Oh my gosh I can’t believe I got on,” Allison squealed. “I love you, Sam. Your blogs totally helped me through my divorce.”
Sam smiled. She loved helping people. I hoped she didn’t mind helping one more person through her divorce. I bit off another piece of cookie and chewed it viciously. It was either cry or cope through sugar this morning. I was tired of tears.
“My question is,” Allison continued, “how did you know it would work out the second time around?”
Sam pushed against her chair and stretched. Her baby girl loved resting against her lower back. “That’s a good question.”
I thought so too. How did you ever know it would work out? Maybe a better question would be, How did you keep it working out?
“Well,” Sam said, “I think once you’ve been around that block you know so much more going into a relationship. You know the warning signs that maybe you missed when you were younger because you naively took them as quirks or even justified them because all your friends were getting married and you didn’t want to be the only single girl left. Or worse, you thought you could change them. But now that I’m . . . uh, let’s say a bit seasoned,” she laughed, “I know better. But honestly sometimes being single is the best thing you can be.”
That last part felt like Sam was talking straight to me.
“But if you are emotionally, physically, and mentally ready to be in another relationship, the best thing I can say is go in with your eyes wide open. Unfortunately,” she stuttered, “there are no guarantees. No one knows for sure it will work out. Even if your partner is wonderful at first, things can change.” She flashed the camera a sad smile.
Was she talking to me?
“But that’s the risk we all take when we fall in love.”
“Do you worry things won’t work out with you and your husband?” Marla asked, concerned.
“Of course,” Sam replied. “I would be naive not to after my first marriage. And after all the stories I’ve heard and even seen firsthand, no relationship is foolproof.”
I used to think mine was. I looked down at the half-eaten cookie in my hand. I dropped it on the coffee table, feeling sick to my stomach.
“This is a great segue into our next question,” Manny chimed in. “Nancy from Iowa wrote in, How do you keep the passion alive in your relationship?”
Marla rubbed Sam’s abdomen. “I think we know one way.”
Sam grinned. She’d made it no secret on her blog how much she enjoyed sex, especially while she was pregnant. “Sex is always a great way to connect, but honestly, the sex is so great because Reed and I make it a point to connect in other ways. He still loves to take me grocery shopping.”
Anyone who had followed Sam for a while knew about her and Reed’s infamous shopping trips. No one but those two could make a trip to the grocery store romantic. He had even proposed to her in the grocery store, and Sam told him she was pregnant via a greeting card left in, you guessed it, the grocery store. Word of their shopping trysts had spread so much that some stores had to start banning people from loitering too long in the greeting cards aisle. And there were signs up in some of the candy aisles telling people that the candy was for purchasing, not for love notes. That’s okay, Reed was ingenious and could use produce. He’d left Sam notes like I’m bananas for you, or, I love you berry much. Seriously, they were too cute for words. And I was jealous. Though I didn’t need anyone to be cute and clever. James was never. But he could be romantic, even thoughtful.
