Not Perfect(58)

And then Stuart appeared. He had a look on his face that she couldn’t identify. Maybe he really was sick, and he was going to tell her. He came and sat next to her, on her side of the bed. He put his hand on her thigh and looked like he was about to say something, and the words that ran through her head were: I don’t want to know. She still wasn’t sure why. So instead of letting him talk, she leaned in and kissed him, and he smelled good. Suddenly she craved him, they had barely touched in weeks. And he responded. For the briefest few moments, she didn’t think about anything but his body and their pleasure. When it was over, she leaned back in bed, thinking something had shifted, something good. Maybe he was finally coming around, maybe that’s what he had wanted to talk to her about earlier.

Stuart got up to go to the bathroom. He was gone a minute or two when she heard something strange. She got up to see, and Stuart was sitting on the side of their big bathtub with his head in his hands. He was crying.

“What is it?” she asked, going to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said quietly. He didn’t even sound like himself.

“Do what?” she asked.

“Stay here,” he had said. “Pretend.”

She had stiffened then. Pretend. For some reason that word got her. It had felt like pretending. It had always felt like pretending, mixed with a little hope. But hadn’t they just connected? Couldn’t that be something to build on?

“What’s pretend?” she asked, standing over him with her arms crossed. “What? Our marriage? Our family? Our home?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, openly. It occurred to her that he was talking more honestly than he ever did. All the time he was so guarded, like if the wrong words were spoken or the wrong move made, he would fall apart. Always on a straight path, never looking around.

“What are you talking about?” she said. “I don’t understand.”

“I want to go see her,” he had whispered. He was still crying.

“Who?” Tabitha had demanded.

“Abigail,” he said. “My . . . my first . . . my first fiancée.”

It had occurred to her, even then, to wonder what he was going to say. His first love? His first wife? Was that how he thought of her even though they had never gotten married? It was later that she wondered if he had wanted to say, “My first true love.” Had Abigail been his only true love?

“That’s ridiculous,” Tabitha had said, strongly and clearly.

He looked up at her then, surprised. What had he thought? That she would say, Fine, go, see you?

“What do you mean?” he asked. He stood then. They were face to face.

“I mean, you’re being ridiculous. You’re having a midlife crisis,” Tabitha said. “You have a family here. Despite whatever happened with you two, you chose to marry me. I am your wife. I have been here for all these years. We have two children who need you. I’m sorry. You chose. You can’t go.”

He looked at her dumbstruck. She wasn’t usually that strong willed.

“I didn’t choose,” he said weakly. “She chose.”

“You chose me,” Tabitha said, breathing hard. “I didn’t even know about her when I agreed to marry you.”

“She’s sick,” he said. “She’s dying.”

“I don’t care,” Tabitha said. “Even more reason to not go, to stay. What would the point be? Then you would lose everything.”

“I have to go,” Stuart said. “I have to be with her.”

“Stuart,” Tabitha said, taking his arm, then letting it go; she was shaking and clenched to the point of feeling dizzy. “I won’t let you. Do you want to do that to the kids? They’ll be devastated. And what about your parents? You know how your parents feel about family. What about our friends? Everyone here? Your colleagues?”

That had made him stop for a minute.

“I am not going to let this all be for nothing,” Tabitha hissed. “You owe me.”

“Owe you?” Stuart had said like it was the craziest thing he had ever heard.

“You never wanted to marry me, or, at least, I was never, ever your first choice,” she said. “That is so clear. You have never done a single thing to make me feel special. I can see it all now. I should have known.” Tabitha fought back tears. She did not want to fall apart. She did not want their family to fall apart. “But we got married, and we have a family. Now, act like a grown-up.”

At that moment, Levi had wandered into the bathroom. He had been calling them, he said he wasn’t feeling well and wanted some Advil.

“I’ll be right there,” Stuart said.

“See?” Tabitha said, like that proved her point. “Stop acting like a reckless kid. We have two kids already.”

“Okay,” Stuart had said. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me tonight. I’m sorry if I hurt you. Let me help Levi. You go to sleep. Maybe a Xanax would do you good. We’ll both be clearer eyed in the morning, and we’ll talk some more then.”

That had already occurred to her. She wanted a Xanax.

“Maybe we can talk when the kids go to school tomorrow,” Tabitha said. “We can go out to breakfast. Maybe we can call a marriage counselor.” Just the thought of it made Tabitha feel relieved. They weren’t permanently broken after all. Perhaps they had needed this breakthrough so that they could fix their marriage.