Irritation surges in my stomach. It rises up through my chest and into my throat. The words I’ve kept on a low simmer inside me for so long are now searing my tongue, and they bubble out of me like hot acid.
I pull my hair over one shoulder, exposing my neck. “Look what you did to me, Paul. Look at this! Again and again, you’ve gotten so out of control that you put your hands on me. Any time I’ve spoken up, any time I’ve tried to tell you how I feel, any time I’ve told you what I want, you snuff me out like a candle, as if I don’t matter. As if my words don’t mean anything to you. You’ve made me feel worthless and insignificant! You get to do and say whatever you want, but I have to sit in silence. I have to obey. I have to follow your rules. Why is that? Why don’t you want to hear what I have to say? Are you so insecure that you can’t stand the thought of me doing something for myself?”
“No, Callie. That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Rage and resentment fuel the fire that’s ignited within me. “You want me to be yours, Paul. To belong to you. But I’m not a possession. I’m a person. I wanted to be part of an us, a partnership where I could still be me. Somehow, I ended up losing myself along the way.”
Paul’s index finger jabs the air between us. “You lost yourself once you became obsessed with having kids. That’s all you cared about! You forgot about me, about our marriage. You only wanted to have sex when your stupid fertility app told you to. Do you forget how depressed you were? Do you not remember lying in bed, day after day, because you refused to come to terms with the fact that having a baby isn’t going to happen? And who took care of you during that time? Who picked you up off the bathroom floor and held you while you cried? Who went to endless doctor’s appointments and treatments? Who took care of you after you insisted that surgery was going to cure you? Me, Callie. It was me! So don’t act like I’ve been this horrible monster, because we both know that isn’t true.”
Guilt spills over the flame, cooling me down for a moment. “You’re right. You did take care of me. And I take responsibility for the part that I played in ruining our marriage. I know what I put you through, and I blame myself every single day. I wouldn’t have been able to get through that time without you by my side.”
Paul’s expression softens as he cups my face. “It kills me that I wasn’t able to give you the family you’ve always dreamed of.”
A tear slides down my cheek. “I know it does. It kills me I wasn’t able to give you children.”
“But we have each other.” He pulls me closer and presses his lips to my forehead. “We still have each other.”
“I don’t know what we have anymore, Paul. I don’t even feel like I have myself at this point. I don’t know who I am, or what I’m doing with my life. I want to work. I want to go out and experience life.” I pause before pushing out the rest of my words. “And I want to adopt a baby.”
“We can do all of that. You can work, and we can fill out an adoption application tomorrow.”
I pull back, and Paul’s hands drop into his lap. “Just like that? All of a sudden you’re singing a different tune?”
He heaves a sigh. “I know I didn’t want those things before, but I want to be with you more than anything else. You’re all that matters to me. So, whatever you want, I want you to have it. Don’t you see? I’m willing to make this work.”
More tears stream down my cheeks, frustration nearly choking me. “Why couldn’t you have wanted to make it work before? Why couldn’t you have been this open, this compassionate, this understanding? I’ve tried to have this conversation with you on multiple occasions, but you shut me down every time! You made me feel like I was wrong for wanting to explore other options. Why, Paul? Why?”
He pulls me against him, and I bury my face in his chest, weeping.
How can it be that the man comforting me is the same man who raised his hands to hurt me?
How am I finding solace in the same arms that broke me down?
Why do I miss the person I fled from?
I feel sick. I don’t know what to do. It’s like someone threw my head and my heart into a blender, and everything got all jumbled.
I know what I want for myself, but I don’t know whether I can achieve that if I stay with Paul. Is he capable of change, really and truly? Have abusive men become calm, loving husbands?
Paul has beaten me down mentally and physically for so long that I can’t even trust my own thoughts. Are they mine? Are they his? Or are fear and guilt warping my reality?
I lean away from him, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands. “I need some time to think, Paul.”
His eyebrows dip down. “Think about what?”
“About what I’m going to do.”
“You need to think about whether or not you want to be with me?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “How can you say you love me but not know if you want to be with me?”
I rise from the couch and look down at him. “The same way you can tell me you love me and hit me.”
Nineteen
Cole
I haven’t seen Callie since we sat by the pool last week.
Yet the saying out of sight, out of mind hasn’t proven to be true.
I half-expected her to return to Paul, to crawl back into the comfort of her familiar patterns, but she hasn’t.
Josie filled me in on what happened when Callie packed some of her belongings from her home. All the things she said to Paul, how she didn’t give in and let him weasel his way back into her life with empty promises and flat-out lies.
Courageous Callie.
My heart soars with pride. I’m not even going to attempt to analyze why.
So, when a flash of blond goes past the large window at Gertie’s, my head snaps around, and my heart skips a beat. My feet carry me outside before my brain even realizes what I’m doing.
“Callie!”
She spins around, and a smile blooms on her face when she spots me. “Hey, Cole. What are you doing here?”
I nod my head in the direction of the diner. “Grabbing lunch. What about you? This is far from home.”
She points toward a building behind me. “Just came from a job interview.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Really? How did it go?”
She shrugs. “Everyone keeps telling me I don’t have experience for the jobs I’m applying for. Don’t know how to gain experience if nobody hires me.”
“Ah. That’s the worst part of job hunting. I’m sorry.”
She waves her hand. “It’s fine.”
I know her eyes underneath those sunglasses would tell me otherwise.
“Are you busy now?” I ask. “Feel like joining me for lunch?”
She adjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. Come on.”
Billy’s brown eyes almost pop out of his head when Callie takes the red stool beside me.
“Callie, this is Billy. We work together at the construction site.”
She leans over and clasps her hand in his outstretched one. “It’s nice to meet you, Billy.”