Not What I Expected
“Because you married him. You took the for-better-or-for-worse vows. You’ve been together forever. You have four kids. It’s called insurance. You’re more relaxed when you know you have insurance on something. It doesn’t guarantee nothing will go wrong, but you’re covered. You know? Or really more like a contract. The reason you get married is so it’s not so easy to just walk away. Right?”
“No. I got married because I was raised to think you needed to get married or you’d go to Hell.”
“And you wanted all the women who used to chase your husband to back off.”
I rubbed my hand over my face. “True. Where did those days go? The days of being insanely jealous. The days of wanting to jump him the moment he walked into the house. I used to wrap my arm around him and slide my hand into his back pocket when we were in public just so other women would know he was mine. Now …” My heart constricted.
I wanted to still feel that way about him. It just wasn’t something I felt anymore, no matter how hard I tried. And I couldn’t fake it.
“Now you secretly hope other women notice him. You secretly hope he notices them. You’ve been secretly hoping—”
“He’d end it first.” I finished her sentence.
“Being faithful isn’t a flaw.”
Grunting a laugh, I stared at the ceiling fan slowly turning. Craig was always excessively warm, so I had to live in a house with the thermostat set at sixty-five degrees year-round and the bedroom ceiling fan always on.
Not that night.
I climbed out of bed and shut it off.
“I know being faithful is not a flaw, but it would have been so much easier if we would have fallen out of love together the way we fell in love together. Selfish? Yes. But it’s my truth.”
“Falling out of love is not a flaw either, Elsie. So don’t beat yourself up over your feelings that you can’t control.”
Turning on the bathroom light, I put my phone on speaker and set it on the vanity while I shed my clothes and slipped on a nightshirt. “I’ll beat myself up because I don’t have control over my guilt either. After all, it is a feeling. And it’s just how incredibly petty it sounds when I list all the things about him that drive me crazy. Like … not a single one by itself would warrant a divorce, but all of them put together are just too much.”
“You’re preaching to the choir. Travis had a million little things that drove me crazy. Squeezing the toothpaste in the middle. Using my kitchen towel to clean messes on the floor then putting it back on the counter as if I wanted to use a dirty towel to dry my clean dishes. But let’s be honest … it was the trunk that pushed me over the edge.”
“The socks?” I tore off a piece of floss.
“YES! Gah … it was ridiculous. Fine, I get it. You don’t want to wear your dirty work boots home and get the floor mats of your car muddy but toss your socks in the passenger’s seat before you put on your flip-flops so you remember to take them inside. Right? I mean … I was just blown away when I opened his trunk and found literally over fifty pairs of smelly socks in there. And the odor was horrendous. I swear to god I tasted it.”
“Exactly! Some things are just gross. And I’m not implying women aren’t gross sometimes too. I just think we’re more likely to be self-conscious about things like that or at least receptive if someone brings our attention to it. I’ll never forget the time we had a bad storm and the garbage got delayed almost a week, which meant we didn’t empty the trash container in the bathroom, and I’d had my period. A week’s worth of tampons … Craig mentioned the ‘special odor’ from under the sink, and I was mortified. Since then, I’ve taken out the bathroom trash every single day during my period week.”
The doorbell rang.
“I have to go. Someone’s at the door. Probably Finn. Bella forgets over holiday breaks that she’s not always the last one home, and she locks the door. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay. Chin up, Elsie. You’ve got this. I’m proud of you for finally telling him you want out of the marriage—even if your pre-holiday timing is shitty.”
I frowned, slipping on my robe. “I know. It just … happened.”
“Night.”
“Night.” I disconnected our call and headed downstairs as Meadow waited patiently at the door for me to answer it. “Did your bro get locked out?” I leaned down to ruffle her fur as my other hand opened the door. “Oh …” I stood straight and tightened the sash to my robe as my stomach coiled into a nauseating knot.