‘I know, honey. I’ll try. We can do better.’
For a week or so he did call more frequently, but the calls quickly dropped off again and so in June, I decided I’d mark his calls on a calendar so that I could track when I did hear from him. It seemed inconceivable that Leo might be distancing himself from me even more, but when I looked back at the end of the month and saw a clearly decreasing pattern of contact, I really started to worry. I emailed to ask him when he was coming home, and he replied quickly and told me it was still a while off. Upset, I called Penny.
‘Sorry, Molly. I can't talk now. Brad and I are just taking Zane to the movies for a special––’
‘Brad is home?’ I shrieked the words, and then found myself breathless, as if she’d winded me.
‘Didn’t Leo tell you? He’s been home for a few days – I thought Leo was coming soon too?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Sorry to interrupt you.’
When Leo called me two days later, I did not pick up the call. I hadn’t emailed him since I’d learned that Brad was home, but that night I sat at the computer and I fired off a missive.
If Brad can manage to get himself home, then surely you can at least give me a date when I can expect you. I am sick to death of this. Do you not understand how difficult it is for me? You just have to find a way to bring some balance to our lives because I cannot go on this way.
And his response was waiting when I woke up the next day.
You knew what my job was when you married me, Molly. You know how important what I’m doing here is. This war is ugly and it’s brutal. So I come home to you to make you feel better, who is going to be here? I’m doing this for us too. I need to build my career, you know that. I know you are feeling neglected and I will try harder but I am not coming home because you’re having a hissy fit. I still have work to do here and my work takes priority over your tantrum.
When he called that night, I picked up the call, hung up on him, then turned my phone off. I didn’t reply to his email and he didn’t call again. Every other time we’d even squabbled while he was in the field, I’d hasten to apologise in case he was injured or killed before we could make up, but not this time. Days passed, and I felt cold inside, and desperate. Every midnight that rolled past saw me more hurt, and closer to resentment. I thought childish things – like what if I just move out while he’s overseas and see how long it takes him to notice? And maybe next time he comes home I’ll get on a plane and go to the most violent war zone I can think of and hide out in a hotel for a week just so he can see what it feels like.
All I wanted was Leo. I wanted the man he was, and I wanted the love we shared. I didn’t want to change him; I just wanted to access him. A life with Leo was what I’d signed up for – not this endless series of pauses and delays.
I got the ’flu that week. I think it was a combination of being stressed out of my mind over the situation with Leo, mixed in with a decent dose of bad timing – the staff at the Foundation had been passing the bug around since the cold weather began. I was on the couch under a throw rug watching soppy movies with Lucien cuddled up on my lap and tissues strewn all over the place.
I screamed when the door opened – which made Leo scream too, because he was no doubt assuming I was at work at 2 p.m. on a Thursday afternoon. After the initial shock, we both recovered and we spent the next hour falling over ourselves to apologise. By that stage, we’d been married long enough to have a few serious disagreements but we’d never let distance grow between us like that before and I thought the incident would be a wake-up call.
‘You mean everything to me, Molly,’ he said. ‘I know this is hard, but I sometimes forget how hard it is for you. I just need to focus on my career for a little longer – after this Syrian stuff settles down, I can take a proper holiday and we can spend time reconnecting.’
That visit home was different for a lot of reasons. It was the first – and only – time he’d ever left the field because he was worried about me. I was so sure it was a turning point that I dared to bring up the subject of a baby again during that week. We were each making such an effort – being careful to nurture one another and to enjoy our time together. The timing felt right to me.
I raised the subject over breakfast one morning. Leo was reading on his Kindle while we ate and I’d made a point of clearing my throat a few times. Eventually he glanced at me. ‘Are you still feeling sick?’
‘I’m fine. I was trying to get your attention. Do you remember what we talked about last time you were here? I know you asked for a year but I just thought maybe we could think about it now.’
He sat the Kindle down and looked at me.
‘I don’t think it’s the right time. I want to be here for you and the baby when the time comes.’