The thought of waking up next to him use to be sheer bliss, now I sit and look at him with uncertainty.
Thoughts of last night cloud my mind…the carousel, the laughter, and carnival games all brought back such wonderful memories. Still uncertain if I was more excited of the childhood feeling or the feeling of us being together, I scramble to find an answer quick. As my mind slows down a bit, my heart widens I can’t help but to crack a smile. I look back at him.
Was it the way he held my hand and looked me in my eyes? Was it the familiar way he sexed that made me want more? How does this go? It took forever to get him to see that I was serious about pursuing the divorce. Now, he lies comfortably in my bed – sound asleep as if he has no care in the world.
Don’t ask me how, but it was something about the way the sheets covered him that brought back painful memories. In an instant the sweet feelings of admiration are gone and vengeance rushes to the surface. The thought of him lying in my bed sickened me and irritation played on the thoughts of him still not having a job, a car, or a place to call his own. The same feelings of “I’m picking up the pieces” triggered a deep feeling of distaste.
I pace back and forth a few times before nudging him on the shoulder. The days of waking him up with soft kisses are over. “Wake up!” I say. My voice is shaky, but he wouldn’t know. A few seconds pass and he doesn’t move. My heart sinks deeper in my chest with every beat and my rage surfaces. “Michael wake up!” I yell, pinching him this time.
“I’m up!” He says in the same nonchalant tone he used when I woke him up to take me to work in my car.
“I need you to get your things and get out.” I say as I begin picking up his clothes and throwing them on the foot of the bed. “Come on. Get out!”
“Teresa, calm down. Just give me a minute.” He replies wiping the cold from his eye. He had no clue he just added fuel to the fire.
I gave him nothing but time! Six years worth of my time with very little to show for it. The logical side of me keeps me sane. “He’ll be gone in a minute.” I remind myself.
We didn’t say two words to one another as he dressed. The sex appeal has diminished. The feelings of the ex-wife have taken over!
“You never gave me a chance,” he says looking at me with those big round puppy dog eyes. He pulls his shirt over his head and walks toward the bedroom door. I watch him with my arms folded across my chest.
“Why are you so cold?’ He asked for the fifteenth million time since we’ve known one another. As usual I pay no attention. Truth be told I’m still trying to shake the thoughts of him not being able to support me like a man should.
Finally, he leaves. I walk to the living room and sit on the couch. Silence surrounds me but my mind is so loud that I can hardly think. Why do I keep going back to this forbidden fruit tree? It does me no good. I went through the divorce to let everyone know that I completely removed this man from my life, but somehow I sneak another rendezvous.
My phone vibrates; I receive a text. It’s Michael. When I read what he wrote, I drop the phone and cover my face. The phone lands right side up so his words are visible: “I LOVED YOU LIKE A HUSBAND COULD. DID YOU LOVE ME LIKE A WIFE SHOULD?”
I pause as I allow myself to think of the good that he’s done for me. When I was sick, he nurtured me back to health. When I lost my mother and couldn’t cope, he took on the funeral arrangements. If I needed someone to talk to, he was my best friend. Why is this so difficult?
Guess he’s right! I never saw me in the equation. He did things for me that money couldn’t buy.
I wonder if there’s any way that we can turn back the hands of time.