I started a load of laundry and emptied the dishwasher. I put the detergent away and turned.
Daniel was standing in the kitchen.
“Hi,” he said, pulling a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
I almost dropped the mug I was holding. “I thought you were in India.” It took some effort to prevent myself from running out of the room.
“I’m heading to the airport soon.” He watched me carefully, a smile on his face.
“What are you doing here?”
“This is the longest time we’ve ever spent apart, you know, without seeing each other at all. I couldn’t leave knowing it would be even longer before I’d see you again.”
I continued to stare at him, aware that my composed-and-careful face was not effectively in place.
“Did you get my flowers?”
I tried to sound calm. “Daniel, you shouldn’t be here.”
He smiled, arching an eyebrow. “I’m sticking with the counseling, Claire.” He used his most cajoling tone. “I’m being a good boy now. And I really miss you. I didn’t think I’d miss you this much.”
I felt sick, my throat tight and dry. I hoped he was sticking with counseling, I hoped he was getting himself back. I wanted that for him. But I knew better than to say anything like that to him. He was very good at hearing what he wanted to hear.
My stomach churned. I wasn’t about to say anything that might give him encouragement for us. I wanted him to get better for the kids, not because I wanted to reconcile or become friends.
I started sorting clothes. The silence in the kitchen built, growing strained.
When he spoke, his voice was sharp. “You’re not going to say anything?”
“What did you expect me to say?”
“Something like ‘I missed you too’ or ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said’ or even ‘That’s nice of you’.” He leaned forward as he spoke, his face stiff. “I missed you. I don’t know why, but I thought you’d want to know that.”
I continued to sort clothes, focused on keeping my hands steady.
“Claire?” he demanded. “Answer me. Do you think this is easy for me? Talk to me. It’s the least you can do.”
I shook my head, reaching for the phone. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He was in front of me then, his hands taking mine. He took the phone and put it back on its base.
“This is my home. The home we made with our children. I have every right to be here.” His voice was hollow, desperate, and hard.
I looked at a spot in the middle of his chest, carefully avoiding his eyes. If I didn’t look at him, he couldn’t misinterpret my expression. All it took was an eyebrow lift, biting my lip, a nose twitch—it wouldn’t take much to trigger his anger.
“I can’t do this.” His voice was full of pain. “I can’t get you out of my head. Why can’t I let go?”
I felt his hands, hot and rigid around mine. The front of his shirt, where I locked my eyes, was shaking in time with his rapid heartbeat.
My heart was in my throat. “Daniel, I—”
“It wasn’t just me that did this to us, no matter what you think. Why weren’t you there when I needed you? You used to smile when you saw me, Claire. Remember?” He was shaking as he finished.
I tried to pull my hands from him, but his grip tightened. I felt the words coming before I could stop them. “Daniel, I am sorry you’re hurting. But that’s—”
His eyes narrowed as he interrupted me. “You’re sorry? I’m supposed to just forgive you? But you won’t forget Melissa or forgive me. Those words can’t mean something when you say them and nothing when I do. But you won’t let me forget the mistakes I made, no matter how hard I try. Don’t you see how unfair that is?”
“It’s time to stop hurting each other.” I jerked my hands away and tried to sound calm. “This kind of conversation isn’t productive, for either of us.”