Ever since our fight a month ago, we can’t seem to get ourselves on track. The fight itself blew over fairly quickly. Zach went out for a drive, and when he came back, he apologized very specifically for getting so upset with me and for leaving. I quickly forgave him because let’s face it, he had reason to be hurt and angry. Upon reflection, I know it was wrong what I did.
Oh, it wasn’t wrong that I had dreams that I realized were unfulfilled, but it was wrong of me to have them and not discuss them with Zach first and foremost. He’s my best friend, my confidant, my mentor, and my biggest champion. He’s my soulmate, the yin to my yang, and the universe created him solely for me, and I for him. It was wrong of me to ever let things get to a point where I took the easy way out. When Zach said I reached out to Randall rather than him with the job prospect, he was absolutely right. I did it because I didn’t want to have the tough conversation with Zach. I was afraid of what my husband might say, and I didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. I still have tremors of guilt over that, but as I said, the fight was over and apologies were accepted.
Except… things are just a little weird.
We’re just… existing.
Our conversation is polite. We laugh easily with each other, and we go to great lengths to show our support for one another. Zach’s been trying to make it home for dinner most nights, and I certainly haven’t brought up the prospect of returning to teaching, even though Zach told me Thanksgiving night that if I wanted to do it, he’d support me no matter what.
We are saying all the right words, doing all the right things, and yet… it all just seems so very wrong.
Our “connection” is gone, and I’m terrified that we may have a deep fracture between us that can’t be repaired.
I can hear Jaime stirring in her crib, and because Zach is a light sleeper, I know at this moment he’s probably sitting up in our bed. Not even the prospect of Santa Claus coming last night would be enough to rouse Cannon from his sound sleep, so I know Zach will stop off in his room to wake him up.
I’m sure Zach will be surprised to find me already out of bed since I’m not a morning person, but Christmas is always different. There’s always a hum of excitement that seems to buzz within my veins, made even more apparent because we have the kids’ excitement playing into it. Jaime’s still not quite sure about the concept of Santa Claus, but Cannon was so excited he was beside himself last night. He must have asked me a dozen times if I thought he’d been good enough all year to warrant presents.
The tiny patter of feet coming down the hallway has me turning my gaze, and I see Cannon skid to a halt before the tree. His eyes are wide and disbelieving as he takes in all the presents. I had actually wrapped all the gifts from “Santa” in gold foil paper and dressed them with red velveteen bows for Jaime and green for Cannon.
“Are those all for me?” Cannon whispers to me, not daring to turn his face from the bounty.
“Santa left a note and said the ones with the green bows are for you and the red bows are for Jaime.”
He looks slightly disappointed to have to share with his sister, but then he drops to his knees with eagerness sparkling in his eyes.
“Let’s wait for Jaime,” I tell him, and I see a look of torture roll across his face. “I can hear Daddy getting her up now.”
Turning, I set my coffee cup on the table beside the couch and then walk over to Cannon. I sit down beside him, pulling a large, gold box with a green bow toward me. “This looks like a good present here,” I suggest as I hand it to him.
Poor Cannon looks ready to pee his pants as he takes the box, but his little bladder is saved as Zach walks into the living room holding Jaime. She squeals when she sees the presents and starts chanting, “Santa, Santa, Santa.”
“Here,” Zach says as he bends over and passes Jaime to me. I settle her on my lap and watch as Zach sits on the opposite side of Cannon.
Jaime leans forward, grabs a box with a green bow, and promptly gets yelled at by Cannon. “That’s mine!”
“Hey,” Zach chides as he puts Cannon in a light headlock and pulls him into his side. He kisses him on the head—which never fails to warm my heart—and says, “Don’t yell at your sister. Santa might come and take these back.”
I gently pull the box away from Jaime and hand her one with a red bow. “The red ones are for you,” I tell her, but she’s too young to understand colors, so I’ll have to monitor her thieving little hands.
Both kids tear into the paper, Cannon unfurling his prize first… a Transformers Lego set. He shrieks with glee and starts to open the box.
“Wait a minute, kiddo,” Zach says softly. “How about we unwrap everything first, then you can play with all the toys after. Okay?”
Cannon grins, and Zach starts handing out the presents.