“You had to ruin it for her, didn't you? You couldn't even sit there for an hour, just so she'd be sure to know how sick you are.”
“When did you turn into a complete prick, Sam?” Alex asked casually, as she looked up at him. “You know, I never realized what a miserable human being you were before. I guess I was too busy.”
“Maybe we both were,” he muttered, and stalked into the study to watch football. He'd had other Thanksgivings like this before. Years when his mother had been too sick even to come out of her room, or cook a turkey. His father usually got drunk. And once he was at school, he hadn't even bothered to come home for Thanksgiving. The holidays meant a lot to him, and it meant a lot to him to have Alex make the effort. She always had before. But now, she was just like his mother, and all it did was make him hate her.
After the football game, he went out alone that afternoon. He went for a long walk in the park, by himself, and when he came back, they ate leftovers, and Alex seemed to be in better spirits. Having ruined their Thanksgiving meal, she was free to perk up now, and feel better. Or at least that was his perception of it.
Annabelle still seemed subdued, and she had asked her mother why she and Daddy shouted all the time, and why they were angry at each other. Alex told her it didn't mean anything, grown-ups just did that sometimes. But Annabelle still looked worried.
Sam put Annabelle to bed himself that night, and made a point of saying to Alex that she was probably too sick to do it, and remembering what Annabelle had said about their arguing, Alex said nothing to him.
She went to their room, after kissing Annabelle good night, and lay on her bed, thinking of how miserable their life was. How bitter it all had become. It was hard to believe things would ever get any better.
And she surprised Sam with what she said when he came back from putting Annabelle to bed. Alex looked over at him with a look of resignation. Maybe she had to finally accept it, that things were never going to be the same again, and it was all over.
“You don't have to be here, you know. I'm not holding you hostage.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” He looked more than a little startled, and she suddenly wondered if he'd been waiting for this. Maybe he just didn't have the guts to tell her he wanted out, and he had been waiting for her to end it. He seemed to be looking for excuses lately to hate her.
“It means that you seem to be pretty unhappy these days, and you don't seem to want to be here. Anytime you want out, Sam, the door is open.” They were the hardest words she'd ever said, but she knew they needed saying. And after all she'd been through in the past two months, nothing was as hard as it had once been. She was fighting for her life. And her marriage.
“Are you telling me to get out?” he asked, almost hopefully, she thought.
“No, I'm not. I'm telling you that I love you, and I want to stay married to you, but if that's not reciprocal, if you don't want to be married to me anymore, you can leave anytime you want to.”
“Why are you saying that?” he asked suspiciously. What did she know? What had someone told her? Was she a mind reader? Or had she been listening to gossip about Daphne?
“I'm saying that because I'm beginning to feel like you hate me.”
“I don't hate you,” he said sadly, and then he looked at her cautiously, afraid to say too much, but he knew he had to be honest. “I just don't know what I feel anymore. I'm angry about what happened to us. It's like lightning struck us two months ago, and nothing's been the same since.” They were the same words Brock had used only that week about his sister. Lightning. “I'm angry, I'm scared, I'm sad. You don't seem the same to me anymore. Neither do I. And I can't stand all this constant talk of sickness and treatment.” They hardly ever talked about it, but just the reality of it was too much for him, and Alex knew that.
“I think I remind you of your mother now,” Alex said honestly, “and that's too much for you to deal with. Maybe you're afraid I'm going to die and abandon you the way she did.” She had tears in her eyes when she said it, but it didn't bring him any closer. “I'm afraid of that, too. But I'm doing everything I can to keep that from happening.”
“Maybe you're right. Maybe it's all a lot more complicated than it appears. But I think it's a lot simpler. I think we've both changed, something snapped between us.”
“And? Now what?”
“That's what I haven't figured out yet.”
“Let me know when you do. Do you want to see a therapist with me?” she asked. “Lots of people going through what I am see therapists, ours isn't the first marriage that's been on the line because of one partner or the other having cancer.”
“Christ, why do you have to blame it all on that?” Just her saying the word seemed to make him nervous. “What does that have to do with it?”
“That's when everything started, Sam. Everything was fine before that.”
“Maybe not. Maybe this just brought it to a head. Maybe three years of sex on schedule and hormones and trying to have another baby did us in.” It had never seemed to bother him before, but anything was possible.
“Do you want counseling?” she asked again, but he shook his head in answer.
“No, I don't.” All he wanted now was Daphne. That was his cure, his escape, his freedom. “I want to work this out myself.”
“I don't think you can, Sam. I don't think either of us can. Are you moving out?” she asked nervously, afraid he might, but seeing no other answer.
“I don't think we should do that to Annabelle, particularly before Christmas, and her birthday.” Alex wanted to scream “what about me?” But she didn't. “What I want is more freedom. I think we should go our own ways, without owing each other any explanations. Let's talk about it again in a couple of months, maybe after Annabelle's birthday.”
“What'll we say to her?” Alex felt devastated, but tried not to show it.
“That's up to you. As long as we're both living here, I doubt if she'll even notice.”
“Don't be so sure. She asked me today why we shout at each other all the time now. She knows, Sam. She's not stupid.”
“Then it's up to us to behave better in front of her,” he said in a voice filled with reproach that made her want to hit him. He was no longer the man she married and loved. But for Annabelle's sake she had to make the new arrangement work.
“I think this is going to be harder than you think,” Alex said honestly as she looked at him across their bedroom. After nearly seventeen years of marriage, it was going to be impossible to live together like roommates.
“It'll be as easy as we make it. Besides, I have a lot of traveling to do in the next few months.”
“Your business seems to be changing dramatically,” she commented, trying not to think of their shattered personal life, “what's that all about?”
“Simon has really opened things up for us.”
“I still think you should be leery of him, Sam. Maybe your instincts were correct right from the beginning.”
“I think you're paranoid, and I'm not going to discuss it with you.”
“I see. What do we do now? Just say good morning and good evening in the halls? Do we eat dinner with each other anymore?
“If it works out with our schedules. I don't see why things have to change that much from the way they are now, at least as far as Annabelle is concerned. But I'll move into the guest room.”
“How will you explain that to her?” Alex asked with interest. He seemed to have it all figured out, and she wondered if he'd already planned it, and she'd walked right into it for him. She didn't trust him anymore either, any more than she did his new partner, Simon. She had drawn up the partnership papers for him, and she just didn't like Simon, or any of the things he'd asked for.
“With you so sick,” Sam said sarcastically, as though she were faking it, “I'm sure she'll understand that I don't want to disturb you.”