Eight signs that your marriage might be in trouble.
It was just a stupid article. She’d met Sean when she was a teenager and many happy years had followed. True, life felt as if it was nothing but jobs and responsibility right now, but that was part of being an adult, wasn’t it?
“I know you love your mother. That’s why we’re in the car on a Friday afternoon,” Sean said. “And we’ll make it through this current crisis the way we’ve made it through the others. One step at a time.”
But why does life always have to be a crisis?
She almost asked, but Sean had already moved on and was answering a call from a colleague.
Liza only half listened as he dealt with a string of problems. Since the practice had taken off it wasn’t unusual for Sean to be glued to his phone.
“Mmm...” he said. “But it’s about creating a simple crafted space... No, that won’t work... Yes, I’ll call them.”
When he eventually ended the call, she glanced at him. “What if the twins invite Jane over?”
“You can’t stop them seeing their friends.”
“It’s not their friends in general that worry me—only Jane. Did you know she smokes? I’m worried about drugs. Sean, are you listening? Stop doing your emails.”
“Sorry. But I wasn’t expecting to take this afternoon off and I have a lot going on right now.” Sean pressed Send and looked up. “What were you saying? Ah, smoking and drugs... Even if Jane does all that, it doesn’t mean Caitlin will.”
“She’s easily influenced. She badly wants to fit in.”
“And that’s common at her age. Plenty of other kids are the same. It will do the twins good to fend for themselves for a weekend.”
They wouldn’t exactly be fending for themselves. Liza had already filled the fridge with food. She’d removed all the alcohol from the kitchen cupboard, locked it in the garage and removed the key. But she knew that wouldn’t stop them buying more if they wanted to.
Her mind flew to all the possibilities. “What if they have a wild party?”
“It would make them normal. All teenagers have wild parties.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know. You were unusually well-behaved and innocent.” He put his phone away. “Until I met you and changed all that. Remember that day on the beach when you went for a walk? You were sixteen. I was with a crowd.”
“I remember.” They’d been the cool crowd, and she’d almost turned around when she saw them, but in the end she’d joined them.
“I put my hand up your dress.” He adjusted his seat to give himself more legroom. “I admit it—my technique needed work.”
Her first kiss.
She remembered it clearly. The excited fumbling. The forbidden nature of the encounter. Music in the background. The delicious thrill of anticipation.
She’d fallen crazily in love with Sean that summer. She’d known she was out of step with her peers, who’d been dancing their way through different relationships like butterflies seeking nectar. Liza had never wanted that. She’d never felt the need for romantic adventure. That meant uncertainty, and she’d already had more than enough of that in her life. All she’d wanted was Sean, with his wide shoulders, his easy smile and his calm nature.
She missed the simplicity of that time.
“Are you happy, Sean?” The words escaped before she could stop them.
“What sort of a question is that?” Finally she had his full attention. “The business is going brilliantly. The girls are doing well in school. Of course I’m happy. Aren’t you?”
The business. The girls.
Eight signs that your marriage might be in trouble.
“I feel—a little overwhelmed sometimes, that’s all.”
She tiptoed cautiously into territory she’d never entered before.
“That’s because you take everything so seriously. You worry about every small detail. About the twins. About your mother. You need to chill.”
His words slid under her skin like a blade. She’d used to love the fact that he was so calm, but now it felt like a criticism of her coping skills. Not only was she doing everything, but she was taking it all too seriously.
“You’re suggesting I need to ‘chill’ about the fact my eighty-year-old mother has been assaulted in her own home?”
“It sounded more like an accident than an assault, but I was talking generally. You worry about things that haven’t happened and you try and control every little thing. Most things turn out fine if you leave them alone.”
“They turn out fine because I anticipate problems before they happen.”
And anticipating things was exhausting—like trying to stay afloat when someone had tied weights to her legs.
For a wild moment she wondered what it would be like to be single. To have no one to worry about but herself.
No responsibility. Free time.
She yanked herself back from that thought.
Sean leaned his head back against the seat. “Let’s leave this discussion until we’re back home. Here we are, spending the weekend together by the sea. Let’s enjoy it. Everything is going to be fine.”
His ability to focus on the moment was a strength, but also a flaw that sometimes grated on her. He could live in the moment because she took care of all the other stuff.
He reached across to squeeze her leg and she thought about a time twenty years ago, when they’d had sex in the car, parking in a quiet country lane and steaming up the windows until neither of them had been able to see through the glass.
What had happened to that part of their lives? What had happened to spontaneity? To joy?
It seemed so long ago she could barely remember it.
These days her life was driven by worry and duty. She was being slowly crushed by the ever-increasing weight of responsibility.
“When did we last go away together?” she asked.
“We’re going away now.”
“This isn’t a minibreak, Sean. My mother needed stitches in her head. She has a mild concussion.”
She crawled through the heavy London traffic, her head throbbing at the thought of the drive ahead. Friday afternoon was the worst possible time to leave, but they’d had no choice.
When the twins were young they’d traveled at night. They’d arrive at Oakwood Cottage in the early hours of the morning and Sean would carry both children inside and deposit them into the twin beds in the attic room, tucking them under the quilts her mother had brought back from one of her many foreign trips.