Because (Seven Year Itch #4)(9)
I think in some ways Shay resented me for being at the right company at the right time. She hadn’t been so lucky as far as jobs come. In the past seven years she’s worked a slew of jobs, all temporary. First she cleaned houses, and after that got too tiring for her, she decided to work retail. After going through three chain stores at an outlet center, she finally settled in at a Target when one came to a nearby town. She’d been working part time there for the past six months. The hours were perfect for when our daughter was in school, and she was always home in the afternoons to take care of the house and get Aberdeen off the bus.
In my eyes our situation was perfect. We made good enough money to be comfortable. I’d been saving up for the past year in hopes of being able to purchase us a new four-wheeler to go riding with my buddies. Shayla wasn’t keen on the idea, not that I gave a rat’s ass. My wife wasn’t going to take away my freedom. Just because I promised to love her doesn’t mean I have to bend over backwards and be someone I’m not.
Let’s not even get me started on our sex life, or lack thereof. My wife hates her body. She’s put on a few pounds since having Aberdeen. I used to joke about it to prove to her it didn’t bother me, but it only pissed her off. Now she refuses to be naked around me unless I barge my way into the bathroom after she showers. We f*ck with the lights out, if it happens at all. This last argument left me in so much pain I considered telling her it was never happening again, but quickly realized I’d be the one suffering the most.
I can’t win for trying.
How many men go down on their wife to please them and end up with ice between their legs because of a broken dick?
She wants me to tell her she’s the most beautiful woman on the planet, and when I don’t she thinks I’m rejecting her.
I’d be lying if I told her that. I guess being honest makes me an *. She’s beautiful no matter what her size, but there are other people in the world who are stunning. She can’t be so jealous. It drives me nuts. If my wife could get over her problems maybe I’d be nicer. Maybe I’d be able to handle coming home and hearing her bitch at me. For now, it is what it is. I’m not changing. She can be happy with what we have, because I know she isn’t going anywhere. She’s got it too good.
When I think about my daughter the problems fade away. No matter how bad it gets between her mother and I, I’ll always be there for her. I’ll give her a good home and make sure she’s happy, even if I’m miserable.
Tonight scared the shit out of me. Imagining my daughter having something that could kill her made me want to die myself. I’m just glad I could be there when she woke up. It’s all that matters. Shayla seemed happy for once. Who knows if we’ll get back to the argument from earlier. I’m always prepared for it now. How pathetic is that? I’m so used to bickering that I expect it.
My friends continue to say I’m crazy. They hate Shayla. They make fun of me whenever they get the chance, saying she’s a lunatic. They try to sway me into making bad decisions when we’re together; some I’d never admit to my wife. She doesn’t need to know about things that would hurt her. She’s got enough going on in that head of hers.
Now she’s seeing a therapist. At first I thought it was a good idea. I mean, she clearly needed someone to tell her that her expectations were unreasonable. I can’t work miracles. I was hoping the doctor would understand, but instead she’d screwed things up more. Now, out of nowhere, Shayla is threatening to kick me out. She’s never done this before, and I honestly don’t know how I feel about it. In some ways I wonder if my life would be easier without her.
She wants me to compromise.
I just want her to shut up and be happy with what she has.
When I finally start to fall asleep I’m burdened with what tomorrow will bring. It’s a hell of a way to live, but it’s the only life I have.
Chapter 5
The sound of snoring wakes me up. I wish I could get a few more hours in, but it’s impossible. The house is quiet. That never happens when Brandon and I are both occupying it. For a while I sit up in the bed and watch him sleeping. In this form he’s innocent. He isn’t out doing things I’m scared will hurt me.
I hate myself for feeling this way about him. I never used to be insecure. It was like the moment we said our vows I feared all the things I could lose if we broke up; if he messed up. It never once occurred to me that maybe I’d be the culprit, but as my heartstrings continue to be tested I wonder if I’ve been blinded by my own denial.
The aftermath of the hospital visit has left me emotionally scarred. I can’t shake what it felt like to assume the worst. A life without our daughter would ensure for a failed marriage. It feels pathetic to know that for sure, nonetheless there was no way to deny it. Brandon wouldn’t stick around if something happened to Aberdeen. He wasn’t in this marriage because he was madly in love with me.
It disgusted me to consider.
Every woman wants to be loved. He loves me. I knew somewhere deep inside he does, but it was never going to be enough. I wanted his devotion, not just because it’s what a husband is supposed to do. It should be effortless, without having to try. We’d never been that couple.
How does a couple start over when too much negativity has transpired between them? We couldn’t erase what was done, and I was beginning to realize if things didn’t change we were headed for divorce. Like it or not, we couldn’t continue living this way. It wasn’t healthy for our daughter. She may have been young, but she wasn’t stupid. When her mom and dad refused to be in the same room together something was wrong. What made it more obvious was having two sets of grandparents who were still very much in love. Brandon’s parents couldn’t keep their hands off one another. They still cuddled and held hands when they watch television. I can’t even remember the last time Brandon held my hand for no reason.