On Friday night, after four days of this routine, she goes for an earlier shower than she has all week. I get the feeling her work has been crazy this week, but that maybe things have settled down today. She’s in the shower just before 9:00 p.m. and I spend the first five minutes telling her about the bathroom renovation progress.
I’ve just shared with her that I expect all the new fixtures to arrive on Monday, when she says, “What colour scheme did you go with?”
This is the first time she’s actively engaged with me in this way since I told her I didn’t cheat on her, and that makes me a happy fucker.
“White.”
“What? All white?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus, Jack, why didn’t you ask for my input?”
“Why, what colour scheme would you have suggested?”
“Something with a little more oomph to it than white. Have you got photos of what you ordered?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll take a look after my shower. We can work on this.”
I fucking love that ‘we’. It’s my current goal in life to extract a lot more of them from her.
She finishes showering, and after putting her pyjamas on joins me in the bathroom where I’ve pulled up images on my phone of everything I’ve ordered for the renovation.
Taking my phone, she scrolls through the photos before shaking her head, saying, “No,” and then proceeding to pull up various websites to show me what she thinks I should do with this room.
“Okay,” she says when she finds something. “See these bathrooms”—she stands next to me, holding my phone so we can both look at it—“something like this is what I’d love to see in here.” She looks at me. “People make their bathrooms so fucking bland and impersonal when they should be anything but. Bathrooms and bedrooms need character. We spend some of our most personal time in these rooms, so bring your personal taste to them. Make this room a retreat.”
I’ve never thought about this from that angle, but I agree with her now that she’s pointed it out.
I take my phone from her so I can scroll through the bathrooms she’s shown me. They’re colourful and unique in a way I’d never imagined a bathroom could be. “That makes sense. What would you do in here?”
“Well, with the tiles and fixtures you’ve already ordered, we could add in some—”
“No.” I shake my head. “Forget what I’ve already ordered. Starting from scratch, what would you do?”
She stares at me. “You clearly have far too much money.”
I chuckle. She knows I do. “Tell me what your choice would be.”
“It doesn’t matter what my choice would be. This is your bathroom.”
“It does matter what your choice would be, sweetheart. I intend on making it so this bathroom isn’t just mine one day.”
“No, Jack,” she says, her tone losing the easiness of a moment ago. “We’re not doing this. You’re renovating this room for you, not for me.”
“I’m just asking what you like.”
“No, you’re trying to push for something I’m not ready to give. Something I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to give.”
“Jessica,” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Why do you always do this?” she asks, her voice growing louder with anger.
“Do what?”
“This thing you do where you pretend you didn’t do anything wrong. It pisses me off. Your charm can’t fix this, Jack. Not this time.” She takes a step away from me before throwing out angrily, “And don’t ask me about fucking tiles and showers and bathtubs. I don’t want anything to do with them. They’re yours, not mine.”
She exits the bathroom in an angry gush of energy. A moment later, her bedroom door slams closed, and I contemplate the fact that I’ve managed to draw some of her anger out. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a good thing. She’s been keeping it in all week, only showing it every now and then. For us to move forward, she needs to let it all out, and I am more than ready to receive it all.
25
Jessica
Jessica: I’m contemplating murder.
Mira: Haven’t you been doing that all week?
Jessica: No, I mean really contemplating it.
Mira: What’s happened?
Jessica: Jack’s trying to get me to tell him how I want his bathroom renovated. As if it’s mine. As if one day we will share this property.
Mira: Well, won’t you?
Jessica: OMG you are the worst at this. I never knew this about you.
Mira: At what? Being honest with you?
Jessica: At being on my side when it comes to men. That’s what besties are for.
Mira: That’s because you haven’t dated anyone in six years who you cared enough about to want to murder. I never had to step in and talk you off a cliff.
Mira: I am on your side. I want you to be happy and I think Jack will do that. I fully support you being angry with him, but you know how I feel about holding onto anger for longer than necessary.
Jessica: So, I could commit murder tonight and then let it go tomorrow?
Mira: I would support that. #BestieOfTheYear
Jessica: Don’t get carried away. A true #BestieOfTheYear would allow me to commit murder repeatedly until I was actually ready to let this go.
Mira: Have you yelled and screamed at him yet?
Jessica: In my head I have. A lot.
Mira: Why only in your head?
Jessica: Because I can’t be near him for long enough for everything I have to scream at him. I’m worried I might actually do harm to his body.
Mira: Your homework tonight is to scream at him. Go. I do not want to hear from you again until you’ve completed your task.
Jessica: If I end up in jail, you need to bring your girls to visit me. Will said he wouldn’t.
Mira: I’ll sneak them in when he’s at work. Go xx
She’s right; I do need to scream at Jack. I have so much to get off my chest, but it’s no lie that I’m concerned I might hurt him.
It’s been four days since he told me he didn’t cheat. That’s a lot of time I’ve spent thinking about him, why he did it, and how much we’ve missed out on together. The kicker in it all is that I can see why he did it. I wouldn’t have made the same choice, but I know Jack’s heart, so I can understand where he was coming from. And that pisses me off.
I don’t want to understand this.
I just want to continue hating it and being angry about it.
However, I’ve had some therapy in my lifetime and I know that anger isn’t usually the main emotion when we’re feeling it. Anger manifests when we can’t or don’t want to feel the real emotion we’re dealing with.
I’m hurt that Jack didn’t talk to me back then.
I’m sad that he gave up on himself.
And I’m fucking disappointed that I haven’t had him by my side for all the years since.
Underneath all that, too, is a sense of having had no control in all this, and that might be the worst feeling for me because I run on control. I know it’s not always healthy, but it’s how I manage many things in my life.