“How did you two meet? How did you get together? How long has it been going on for?” Her face crumples as she continues. “How did my husband give up on me so easily?” No tears fall. I’m not sure Jolene has it in her to cry anymore, but the agony she’s in is clear as day from the way she hugs herself to the way she’s fighting to control her emotions.
My lip quivers as I take in her hurt. Tears threaten at the back of my eyes and I force out a breath in an effort to hold back those tears. I don’t even know where to start to try and explain to a wife how her husband moved on. In the end, I just start with her questions. “I met Luke over a year ago when he took over the bar where I was a customer. Nothing happened between us until just over four months ago when our friendship changed into something more.” I avoid her other question because it’s not my place to even go there. That’s between her and Luke.
She stares at me, her breaths coming fast. “I lost Luke a long time ago. I know that, but I always held onto the hope that we’d be able to find our way back to each other. I thought he loved me as much as I love him.”
It’s funny how the story behind a relationship is different depending on which person in the relationship you talk to. Luke thinks Jolene doesn’t know how to love and yet here she is telling me she thinks she loved him more than he ever loved her.
Talking about Luke with his wife is one of the strangest experiences of my life. I don’t know what to say. I came here to discuss her case, but she seems to have a different need. I decide to give her the space to express herself because I sense what this woman needs more than anything right now is someone to talk to about her loss. “How did you two meet?” I already know this, but it’s a way to open up a dialogue.
“He was a client where I worked. He came in for months buying clothes and I tried to work up the courage to talk to him more than a few words here and there. He came in one day just after my mother told me I’d never succeed in life—after I told her I had no money to give her to pay her rent. I was crying and he asked me out on a date. I think he felt sorry for me, but the date went really well and we started seeing each other. For the first time in my life, I had someone who looked at me and saw something more than a woman with nothing to offer the world. He put me on a pedestal and smothered me with love. And I loved him back harder than I had ever loved anyone. Until my mother got involved…” Her voice drifts off, as does her gaze.
I give her a minute with her memories before pushing for more. “What did your mother do?”
“After Luke proposed to me, she told me I needed to get pregnant as fast as possible. Said it was the best way to keep a man. I ignored her as best I could, but the thing about my mother was that she had this way of planting doubt everywhere. She didn’t let up until I was finally pregnant, and in that time, she made me question Luke’s fidelity and his love.” She pauses, never letting my gaze go. “I’ve never been a strong person, Callie. I admit that, but my mother made me feel worse about myself. And then Luke’s mother got involved, and that was the final nail in our coffin.”
I frown. “I’ve met Estelle. She seemed okay.”
“She never much liked me. I think I was too white-trash for her. But Luke always stuck up for me in the beginning and she backed off. After Sean came along, though, she butted in at every opportunity she could. She insisted on buying us a house. When Luke argued with her, she told him it would come from his inheritance, but he dug his heels in and said no. Then one day she just turned up with house keys. Luke fell in love with the house because of the amazing architectural design and that was that—he gave in. Then Estelle bought us a car after she declared Sean needed a safe car to be driven around in. Luke always refused money off her, but she was always bringing clothes and gifts over for Sean. And by doing that she always reminded me that she was better than me because I couldn’t give my son those things. It made me feel like shit and it caused a lot of fights between me and Luke.”
I can imagine Estelle doing everything Jolene has just described. It’s funny, though, how we interpret people’s actions. If it were my child she was gifting items to, I’d happily accept them. They say actions speak louder than words, but sometimes we hear the wrong things.
I don’t say anything. Rather, I just wait for her to continue.
“Eventually, Luke stopped caring and stopped standing up for me to his mother. I fought back—I tried everything to get his attention from arguing with him to ignoring him. When I stopped having sex with him, he didn’t even care. He simply came to bed, kissed me goodnight and rolled away from me.” She blinks and a tear rolls down her cheek. “Do you know how that feels, Callie? To have the man you love so much you think you’ll die if he leaves you, roll to the other side of the bed night after night? To not have his support where his mother is concerned? To know he’d rather go to work than try and fix the problems between you?”