The Wife (11 page)

On the trip home, we keep our conversation with the boys light, and go back to pretending everything is fine, even though our fight this morning showed we are anything but.

I’m going to have to find a way to get Mike back into therapy with me, because if there’s ever been a time to talk things out with a third party, it’s now. This weekend showed me that as much as I want things to go back to how they were, it’s going to be impossible to just ignore what has happened. And that seems to be exactly what Mike expects me to do. I realize now that he just wants me to forgive him and move on, which I just can’t do. He’s lost my trust; he’s hurt me and a part of me wants him to pay for destroying all of that. Even if his repentance is going to therapy and admitting we are in this place in our marriage because of him and his actions. I need him to do something on his end to try to make us work again.

“Mom, when are we going back to New Jersey? Is it before Fourth of July, or after?” Liam asks, always excited to go back and see his summer friends. Colin and Liam will be spending a week with me and my dad and one week up at Camp Callahehee, where I spent two summers in high school. The place that brought Jamie into my life.

My dad brought up the camp to Mike and me last year, noticing the boys’ interest in art. I knew first-hand what an amazing place Camp Callahehee is, and the opportunity and experiences it provides, aside from heartbreak.

“Before the Fourth,” I answer, trying to add some happiness in my tone. I remind myself how good it will be for the boys to get away from the tense atmosphere that our home has taken. Up until this morning, I had hopes that things were getting better, but now realize we have a lot of work to do before we go back to how things were. Or at least for me to get used to the new normal, as Dr. Murphy put it.

“Are you coming, Daddy?” Liam presses, knowing how rarely Mike ever joins us for more than a weekend.

“Yeah.” He smiles, probably thinking this gesture will make things better for us, and smiles at his sons in the rearview mirror.

The boys both high-five, clearly excited to see their dad was going to make time for them. It made me sad that the smallest gesture meant so much to them and only highlighted Mike’s absence in their life.

I try my best to hide the frustration festering inside me. I know immediately by his tone that he has no intentions to stay the entire two weeks. I wish he wouldn’t make those kind of promises to the boys, only to squash them in the end.

I know I should be happy he was even able to get away for this entire weekend together, when I haven’t had an uninterrupted night alone with him, much less an entire weekend, in years. I close my eyes and think back to Dr. Murphy’s words; I remind myself that it’s up to me to make the choice to forgive him and move on. I’m the one who will drown our marriage if I can’t let go of the anchor that’s holding us underwater. I need to make myself believe that if he tells the boys he’s coming back East, then he’ll follow through with it.

I try to remember that even though Mike has been fielding emails and texts all weekend from work, he kept doing everything he could to make sure his work issues didn’t interfere with our fun. Now, here in the car silence next to him, I’m realizing just how much stress he must be under with not only our family life, but also handling some big issue that seems to be overwhelming him at the moment. Each time he looks at his phone, his face turns a different shade of red. Before this weekend, I would have assumed all of these phone calls were from a girlfriend, and now realize my jealousy was keeping me from being a support to him and his job.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay at the office?” I slide my hand to his lap, trying to show a sign of unity when he tosses his cell in the drink holder.

“The usual.” He gives me a fake smile. “It’s like they have a GPS on me to know when I’m close.” Mike pulls off the freeway at the exit to his office and gives me an apologetic look. “I have to stop in for one minute and get my other laptop, okay?”

I nod in agreement as the kids moan. I’m glad to see that there are no other cars in the parking lot, which means no one is there to hold Mike up or take him hostage to consult on one of the other projects. Mike leans over and kisses my cheek before he hops out of the car and runs into the office. The boys are both entertained by their iPads, so I take the opportunity to listen to some music and send a text to Lee.

Me: We’re baaacckkk!

Lee answers right away.

Lee: Your ears must have been burning.

Me: Don’t you have anything better to do than talk about me :)

Lee: Frank is the one who can’t stop talking about you.

Me: Why? And why are you with Frank?

Lee: We’re on a date. Don’t worry, I won’t let him get past first base.

Me: Please tell me you’re not going to start dating him. Please, please please.

It takes far too long for Lee to respond. My mind swirls with embarrassment at the things Lee could be saying to Frank about me and my marriage. Most importantly, I only hope she doesn’t bring up Jamie to Frank. I don’t know how much he actually knows about us. Just when I’m about to text her again, I notice a body pressed up against the full-length glass window of Mike’s building, being held there by a large figure. I instinctively lock the car doors, and dial Mike’s phone, only to remember that he’s left it in the car when it rattles in the drink holder. Was I witnessing a robbery?

Just when I start to dial 911, I see Mike emerge from the building, looking extremely disheveled and upset. Was that his body up against the wall that way? It couldn’t have been. I jump out of the car and run over to Mike, who instantly shoos me away.

“Get in the fucking car,” he seethes at me.

I know better than to ask more questions right now and hop in the car, locking the doors again as soon as Mike is in the driver’s seat and drives away as fast as he can.

“Where’s your computer, Dad?” Colin asks.

Mike gives me a look that says he will explain later and turns to our son. “I forgot my keys at home, buddy. The office was closed.” He’s breathing heavy and I can hear the fear in his voice.

“But Dad, you promised I could play Terarria on your laptop!” Colin begins to protest, clearly unaware at the confrontation his father just experienced.

“Jesus, Colin, relax. You play that damn game too much anyway. Go out and ride your bike or do something active. Just stop talking to me right now!” Mike never loses his patience with the boys and it makes me even more worried about what I just witnessed.

“You can use any other computer in the house, Colin, alright? Let’s just get home and not have an argument before we set foot through our door,” I chime in, trying to cool everyone down.

“Look who’s talking. All you and Dad ever do is fight.” Colin’s words made it seem as if acid was thrown on my heart.

“Don’t you dare speak to your mother that way,” Mike says defensively.

“Why? You always yell at her or tell everyone how mean she is,” Liam interjects.

I look over at Mike in shock that our children are more aware of our problems than we thought. We thought we had been experts at protecting them from our troubles. My fears about the encounter I just witnessed shift to fears that I haven’t protected my children from my failure.

“That’s enough from both of you,” Mike scolds them as he pulls into the driveway. I am unable to say anything. “Get out of the car and go straight to your rooms.”

The boys jump out of the car, slamming the doors behind them for effect, as I sit, speechless, next to Mike. Once they’re out of sight, he slams his fist against the tan leather steering wheel.

“I don’t know what to say about any of this.” I twist my hands in my lap, trying to hold myself together.

Mike changes his demeanor drastically from the frantic anger that just exploded from him and gives me a nonchalant shrug. “They’re just trying to piss us off. They’ll be fine.”

I don’t believe that excuse for a second. Clearly the boys are affected by the deterioration of our family, but I have other questions for Mike that aren’t as obvious. “What happened at the office then? Was someone attacking you, Mike? Is there something going on?” My thoughts instantly go to wondering whether it was perhaps his ex-lover’s husband or boyfriend seeking revenge. He said there are things he can’t tell me. Is he in some sort of trouble that I don’t know about?

“What are you talking about?” He immediately realizes that I saw him pressed up against the window when I give him an annoyed look because he’s trying to hide something from me. “Oh, that was nothing. We were playing around.” He begins to open the car door, unable to make eye contact with me.

He’s lying.

I grab his shoulder. “Stop lying to me! Just tell me what that was about. You were a mess when you came back out to the car. Your face was red and you looked like you had just been roughed up!” I yell, too pissed to let him talk his way out of this.

He gets out of the car and he bends down to look at me in frustration. “Alexa, it was nothing. We were joking around. Either stop it with all your questions or get the hell out of my house. You choose.”

He walks away and doesn’t look back. I sit in the car and cry. There is little hope left to keep our marriage together.

M
ike telling me to stop asking questions or to leave was a moment of clarity that I’ve been waiting for. After he admitted to cheating on me and promised to try to make it work, I chose to believe him. I chose to give him another chance, even though he violated my trust and respect for him. Yet, simple questions about why someone had him pinned up against a wall were the reason he snaps from wanting to try to make us work to ultimatums.

Each day that passes, I find I’m losing myself more and more and I’m left grasping at the remnants of my marriage helplessly. The times that I should be focusing on my kids and my job are constantly being overshadowed by my sadness and discontent in my marriage. The question is no longer did he cheat; it’s turned to when is he going to cheat again? That constant question isn’t something that I want to be thinking, but the way he sat there and lied so easily to me about the altercation the other night, the more I’m left wondering when the lies will ever end. I think about how many other times before he could have been lying to me. Was this who Mike has always been, or has he changed into this stranger?

I walk into the coffee shop and see Lee and Rita waiting for me; I need to close my eyes for a moment to gather myself before facing the firing squad that is no doubt ready to attack. When I had dinner with Lee, she did everything in her power to convince me to finally suck it up and leave Mike, and she didn’t even know that he told me about his affair yet. I sat there and defended myself and Mike, although I had just learned the truth about his infidelities only hours before. I was actually glad when Jamie and Frank arrived, just for the simple fact that their presence would actually make her shut up about it all. Now, the smiles on their faces tell me I’m in for something.