‘Fine. Fuck you!’
I knew that at least part of the reason he was pulling away was that I was pressuring him about starting a family. But in some ways my desire – and increasingly – my desperation for a child was not at all a rational thing. I thought about it constantly – every night I dreamt about what it would be like to be pregnant with Leo’s child. It seemed as if every woman I knew was pregnant or thinking about becoming pregnant – Teresa had just given birth to River, there was a bunch of women at work who were pregnant too, but the most difficult pregnancy for me to deal with though was Penny’s. She looked absolutely ripe with fortune and love – there wasn’t any way I could have been more jealous of her. We’d become fairly close but I started visiting her more often, wanting to look once more at that lovely pregnant belly and to feel the movement of the baby beneath her skin.
Penny was always keen to catch up over dinner or coffee, even if we’d only seen each other a few days earlier. But the more I visited her, the more aware I was of how much better Brad was at staying in touch than Leo. He called at least once a day and he always stayed on the line or video chat long enough to talk to Penny and both kids. Somehow, she was always up-to-date with his travel plans and she seemed to know all of the details of whatever it was he was working on.
All I knew most of the time was that Leo was in danger. In fact, I only found out he was coming back, because I was at Penny’s house when Brad called, and Leo yelled from somewhere in the background, ‘Tell Molly I’m coming too. Thursday night!’
I saw the look on Penny’s face that night; she pitied me.
On Thursday night, I waited on the couch for Leo as I always did. The door opened and he stepped inside.
‘Hi,’ he said quietly.
‘Hi,’ I said. Leo dumped his bags on the floor and walked through to the kitchen. He made his vegemite toast and I waited there in the lounge. Every second I waited was torture, as it always was. I couldn’t wait for him to come and sit beside me and to envelop me in those strong arms. That was the one moment in the awful cycle of leaving and returning when everything was okay.
Leo finished his snack and he started walking back towards the living area. I sat up – eagerly anticipating my moment. When he turned at the stairs and disappeared towards the bedroom, I finally realised that my marriage was in serious trouble. By that stage I was battling two furiously competing voices in my head whenever I considered our situation. There was the incessantly demanding voice that constantly suggested that only a baby would solve the difficulties we were facing. A baby would surely bring us closer together, return his focus to me, and to us, and that would mean a fresh start. Our love could be like it was – maybe even better.
The demanding voice also reminded me of all of Leo’s flaws – of how much he’d hurt me over the years of our marriage by prioritising his work over me – of how guilty he made me feel when I complained, because how could my emotional needs possibly compare to the work he was doing?
Resentment had taken root in my heart, and it grew every time that demanding voice reminded me of the promises made on our wedding day, and how Leo seemed to have accepted without any fight at all that our emotional intimacy might disappear altogether. Resentment breeds disdain, and that’s an ugly, toxic element in a relationship. It is the opposite of respect – the two things simply cannot exist in the same space.
Disdain meant that when I talked to Leo, I was bitchy and I was mean. Disdain meant that when he was dismissive of me, I felt I had the right to demonise him. I forgot the good in him and overlooked all of the fine qualities of the man that I had fallen in love with – when disdain took hold all I wanted to see was the bad.
Then there was the sensible voice – the voice of love. This voice was quieter and gentler. It worried for Leo. He had always loved his work but it had taken on a completely obsessive focus that I just couldn’t understand. The sensible voice pointed out to me that Leo and I were barely communicating and that this lonely, tension-filled home was not a place to bring a child into. The sensible voice told me that the way forward was not a baby but the hard work of reconnecting with Leo and dealing with our issues.