My principal got his compassion, but not his wife.
“His eight-year-old broke his leg. It’s nothing serious.” My words came out clipped and short. Nick noticed immediately. His gaze sharpened and his lips parted as if to defend himself.
I braced myself for fighting words, the ones that would spiral us into a never-ending argument. He would set me off and I would retaliate with something blade-sharp and cutting. He would return by nagging me to death until I explained every last one of my emotions, at which point I would shut down and the barrier around my heart would thicken and expand.
Sometime in the last seven years, I had started to pay attention to our fights. We fought in phases, each argument trying to outdo the last. What was worse was that we had developed this toxic cycle that could not be broken.
“Huh,” was Nick’s intelligent reply.
“So why are you here?”
His gaze drifted to the dog. “I need to grab a few things of mine.”
Righteous anger spread from the fire in my belly, snaking through my veins and reaching my fingertips and toes. “You should have called me first. You can’t just walk in here unannounced. This isn’t your house anymore.”
Nick took an aggressive step forward. “This isn’t my house? Are you kidding me? This is our house. As far as I know, my name is still on the mortgage. I can come and go as I please.”
“I’m a single female, living alone. Don’t you think I deserve privacy? I thought you were a murderer!”
“You’re a single female, huh? Just like that? I’m gone for a couple months and suddenly you’re living the high life?”
“That’s not at all what I meant! And you know it!” I took another step forward and swallowed down the bitterness that bubbled up my throat. I wanted to claw at my itchy skin and burst into hysterical tears. How did we get like this?
Why couldn’t we have just one decent conversation?
Nick’s face heated with his matching anger. “I don’t know what you mean, Kate. I’m starting to wonder if I ever knew what you meant. You kicked me out.”
“Oh, that’s nice. That’s really lovely.” I spun around and threw my hands out. “I love how I’m the bad guy in this thing. How it’s all my fault.” I turned back to face him and let my words punctuate the air with every ounce of resentment and exhaustion I felt. “We came to this decision together, Nick. Don’t you dare put the blame on me. I’ve been the villain for seven goddamn years, but I refuse to this time. We did this together.”
He rocked back on his heels and his shoulders deflated like the anger had leaked from his body. He was a puffed-up balloon with a quarter-sized hole. But he wasn’t any less worked up. This was the quiet rage that cut deeper, sliced in jagged, unhealable ways.
“Sure, Kate. We both wanted this.” His voice pitched low and firm when he launched his final assault. “At least it’s what we both want now. You’re not the only one that’s been living in freedom lately. God, it feels good to get out from under…” I waited for the end of his sentence, knowing it would be about me, knowing it would be the agonizing reminder of what a terrible wife I was. But he shocked me when he finished with, “this roof.”
It wasn’t any less hurtful, but it didn’t pack quite the punch I had been expecting.
My surprise quelled some of my fury and I found myself able to reply to him without goading him further. I ran my hands over my face and in a deflated voice, I asked, “What are you really doing here, Nick? I know you didn’t stop by to fight with me.”
He jerked his chin to the side so he didn’t have to look at me. “I didn’t think you were going to be here.”
“Nick, god. Just come clean already.” A wave of violent exhaustion knocked into me and I teetered backward. He did this to me. He wore me out completely. And he didn’t even notice. He wouldn’t even look at me anymore.