“You’re funny. What’s not to understand?”
She softly smiles. “And lastly, I appreciate your heart. You took a chance on me when I didn’t think I deserved a chance. You helped me see that through the bruised and battered heart I grew up with, that I was able to open myself up to love.”
“It’s easy to love you, Myla,” I say before I can stop myself.
“It’s easy to love you, Ryot.”
Any other human in my situation would say, then why are you asking for a divorce, why are you trying to break away from me?
But I know why.
Because I broke her trust. I broke our vows.
I’ve thought a lot about this over the past twenty-four hours. I’ve never verbally abused Myla. I’ve never flaunted her flaws or tried to make her feel small. But I’m seeing that in taking away her choices, moving her without any consultation or—let’s be perfectly honest—any thought about her needs, I’ve treated her with the same level of disrespect as her parents. She’s an intelligent, driven woman, and in many ways, I belittled that. I knew she loved her work with Renovate Chicago, and I’m now sickened by my disloyalty to her. My actions spoke loudly and negatively into her fragile self-esteem, much like her mother’s words and her father’s inaction did. I made her feel unvalued and inconsequential. So she ran from me. Because that’s safer than confronting the bully, as she learned from her mother’s abuse. God, I fucked up.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Well, I guess it’s my turn.” I move my hands down her back, repositioning myself as her legs grow tighter around me. “I appreciate your strength. You’ve been through hell and back, Myla, and even though there were times when you didn’t think you could recover, you never broke. I appreciate everything you put into our marriage, especially when I was playing baseball. You made it easier on me, for me, and you tried to keep us from breaking, and I will always love you for that.” She glances away because I know that’s a touchy subject. She put her life on hold so I could pursue my dreams.
What have I done for her?
“And I appreciate your smile, which sounds lame, but that smile? It’s turned some of my shittiest days into better ones. There were times when I would come home after some of the worst games of my life, and you would greet me with that welcoming smile and remind me that it was just a game. It was all just a game, and that what I have with you is so much better than any batting average I might ever achieve.”
“Even during the strikeout streak we don’t talk about?” she asks, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
“You mean the streak when I struck out every up at bat for three games in a row?”
She nods. “Now those were difficult times.”
I chuckle just as Mel chimes in. “Okay, now I’d like you to confess something to your partner. It could be small, it could be grand, but if you’re the one who is listening, I need you to understand, the key to a good marriage is listening, acceptance, and forgiveness. So please, don’t use this confession against your partner. Use it as a base to grow. Remember the three things you appreciate about each other while you’re listening.”
“Confession . . .” Myla taps her chin. “It was me who was tilting the pictures.”
I feign shock. “No, that was you?”
She chuckles. “Guilty.”
“I had no idea. Wow, color me stunned,” I say as I move my hands to her side and up her ribs.
“It’s shocking, I know, you might have to settle yourself before your confession.”
Funny thing is, I could either match the ridiculousness of her confession, keep it light after such a heavy moment, or I can bring it right back to being serious and confess something that has been sitting heavy on my chest.
My hands grip her tightly, my thumbs bobbing close to the sides of her breasts. I’m not sure I’ll have another chance to say what I need to say. I have to say it. I have to get this off my chest.
“Myla?”
“Yes?” she says.
“My confession . . . well, it’s not so funny and more God’s honest truth.”
“Okay,” she says, sounding skeptical.
“I will live with two regrets for the rest of my life. One being that even though you were trying to talk to me, trying to tell me that I was hurting you, I didn’t listen. I realize the damage it has done. I’m sorry. And my second regret is signing those divorce papers because, even though you deserved to be let go to live your life your way after the way I treated you, the love I have for you will never fade. And losing you will always be my biggest mistake. Not sure I’ll ever forgive myself.”
“Oh,” she says as silence falls between us.
“Yeah . . . oh,” I repeat right before dipping my head back to the edge of the pool.
MYLA
“Did you hear anything from the doctors?” I ask Nichole as I pace the end of the hallway of the floor our room is on.
“That’s really the first thing you’re going to say to me when I answer the phone?”
“Yes, I want to make sure you’re keeping me up to date.”
“Trust me, you’ll be my first call, so stop asking. Unless I tell you something, there is no news.”
“Okay. Sorry.”
“Now, what’s the real reason you’re calling? Wait, let me guess. You’re freaking out because Ryot did something today that made you think, maybe, just maybe, you did the wrong thing by asking him for a divorce?”
I’m silent because . . . well, because she’s slightly right.
“Tell me I’m not telling the truth.”
“It was just a tough day today, well, tough morning. The day isn’t even over. I have dinner with him shortly, and I’m just feeling weird, okay? I need to talk it out.”
“Tell me what happened.”
I explain the class to her, how we both didn’t know what to expect, but when the moment came down to it, I thought that maybe it would be nice to see what he had to say about me.
“This is Ryot, Myla. Of course he’s going to say sweet things. He always has. What did you think he was going to say? That you’re a rotten bitch, and he hopes you burn in flames?”
“No, I just . . . ugh, I don’t know. What he appreciated about me was really sweet, but it was his confession that destroyed me, and the way he held on to me, like if he loosened his grip even a little, that I might float away.” I let out a sigh and press my hand to my forehead. “Remind me why I asked for a divorce.”
“Hey, I was never a super supporter of the idea, but if you need to know, it was because after he retired from baseball, you were supposed to spend your life together, accomplishing goals together, and having a life post sports. Then he started a business, ignored everything you said, moved you to California, and made your life miserable—even after you tried talking to him multiple times and he ignored you. One-track mind really kind of blew up your marriage.”
“Wow, thanks, Nichole.”
“You asked. Is there any way you could see yourself changing your mind?”
“I mean, possibly, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re in a place in our lives where we want different things. He’s so attached to The Jock Report and everything it represents that I couldn’t imagine him ever giving it up. And I don’t want to be in California. I don’t want to be away from you.”