The Husband Hour(69)
“I’m not staying at your parents’,” Rory said.
“Why not? They’re never home and there’s so much space.”
“We can stay at my mother’s.”
“There’s no room, Rory. Emerson and Jane are coming with the kids.”
“We can sleep on the couch.”
“I’m not sleeping on your mother’s couch.”
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s ridiculous. We can have our own room—”
“Goddamn it, Lauren. The second you have to deal with the slightest bit of discomfort, you turn into a two-year-old.”
She couldn’t believe it. “The second I have to deal with…are you kidding me?”
“We’re staying with my family, and that’s it. I haven’t seen Emerson in eight months.”
“Well, whose fault is that?” she muttered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You wanted this—all of this. I’m living the life you picked for us, and you’re mad at me for suggesting we have our own bedroom for our two-week stay in Philly?”
“No, I’m mad at you for acting so victimized by everything.”
“Well, great. I’m sure you and your lovely brother will have lots to talk about, then.”
“So now you have an issue with my brother?”
“He has never been anything but a total dick to me!”
As soon as she said it, she saw his face change. It was like looking at a stranger.
She hadn’t realized how close he was to her, and the slap came quick and furious, a backhand to the jaw. It was hard enough to throw her off balance, and she stumbled and tripped over an end table. She fell backward and hit her head against the wooden leg of a wingback chair they’d found at an antique store in Silver Lake. Her phone slid out of her pocket, and she grabbed it, just that small motion dizzying to her.
“Jesus, Lauren—I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for her, trying to help her up. “I don’t even know—”
Lauren looked at Matt and took a deep breath.
“He hit me,” she said. She waited a beat. It was the first time she’d said it aloud. Surely, something would happen. Something bad would happen.
But if Matt was surprised by her revelation, he didn’t show it. “I was terrified. I knew that wives of soldiers were at greater risk of lethal domestic violence than any other demographic in the country. You know, Rory wanted me to be more involved, more informed as a military wife. The truth was, I knew more about what we were getting into than he thought. Maybe more than he knew.”
“Was this ever addressed in a formal way by the military, that it was something you should be prepared for, look out for?”
She nodded. “I got lots of information. And to cap it all off, the day he got back from deployment, as I was walking to the bleachers to wait for him, military personnel handed me a little American flag along with literature on suicide and domestic violence.”
“What did you think in that moment?”
“I mean, it put a damper on things. Let’s put it that way.”
“After he struck you, did you ask him to go to therapy?”
“Not at first. I was in shock, I think. And then he left for Philly without me. I don’t know what he told his mother and Emerson, but they left me all sorts of crazy voice mails. They wanted me to come to Philly, to be, quote, supportive of him. I never answered my phone. I didn’t want to tell them that he’d hit me if they didn’t know, and if they did know and were still leaving me those messages? I mean, that actually wouldn’t have surprised me.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
She shook her head. “No. I just couldn’t. It felt like I’d be betraying him. He was such a private person and had so much pride. And what would it have helped? I wasn’t trying to punish him by keeping my distance; I really was trying to figure it out. And the only answer was therapy. It seemed obvious to me, but I knew it would be a tough sell to Rory.”
“But you suggested it?”
She nodded. “Yes. He returned to LA three days before flying back to Washington. I said he couldn’t come to the house, so he stayed with Dean Wade. I agreed to meet him for coffee and prepped my whole speech on why we needed therapy. I knew he would resist the idea, but I thought that ultimately he would come around. I truly believed that.”
“So you were optimistic?”
“Yes. I was optimistic. And before he was due to fly back to Washington State, we met to talk.”
Rory was already sitting at a table near the back when she arrived at the coffee shop. Their greeting was awkward. Her impulse was to hug him, but she held herself back and he kissed her on the cheek.
“How are Dean and Ashley?” she asked.
“Great. They say hi.”
She nodded, remembering Ashley’s words: “They all get nasty when they hit their heads.”
She could feel other women in the café looking at them. Did they recognize him or were they just checking out a gorgeous guy?
“Lauren, I’m sorry. I fucked up. There’s no excuse, but you have to know that’s not who I am.” He reached for her hand. She let him take it but she couldn’t look him in the eye.