Shards of My Heart

  Over the years, we had some issues, there have been some breaches in that oh so important trust. Ultimately, I believe that he can redeem himself. Bit by bit, day by day, he was doing it. We were doing it...healing.

  me: Yeah. I think so. I have some fears.

  Sighing loudly, he shook his head.

  Shane: Babe…

  me: Just listen…

  He nodded before I decided to continue

  me: I felt like you have had one foot out the door our entire relationship. I felt like you weren’t really in this, like you loved me, but not enough for forever. You’ve been so unhappy…

  Shane: That’s my nature. These days, I’m getting happier. You must have noticed.

  me: I did. And I also noticed that even though you friended your exes, you weren’t trying to hook up.

  Shane: I told you that I would only marry one woman...ever. It’s you. I picked you.

  me: Yeah. You did.

  He smiled at me, grabbed my hand and hugged it to his chest. Minutes later we were leaving Kylie with Brynn. Soon after that we were headed to the courthouse for what would be our first appearance together over the Order of Protection. Apparently Shane had found his focus. Soon, he was glancing at the binder again, still open in my lap.

  Shane: So, what’s the next exercise?

  I read it before sharing it with him. It helped me to paraphrase it, since he lacked the attention span to internalize lengthy paragraphs audibly.

  me: This exercise is on trust.

  Looking up, I realized he was waiting expectantly for me to speak.

  me: Okay, so...trust isn’t about trust at all, it’s about reliability. When we trust each other, it is really just another way of saying that we can count on each other.

  Shane: Are you saying you can’t count on me?

  His eyebrows were raised in surprise and he wore a hurt look on his face. Given his tendency to believe he was the best...at everything, I could see why he felt like he did.

  me: Not really, no.

  His face clouded over, still I pressed on to explain.

  me: You tell me you are doing one thing, but do another. Just the other night, you went to get dinner and decided to be all sneaky and pick up a script you knew you shouldn’t have.

  Opening his mouth, he started to object, but closed it as I raised a finger.

  me: When you say you are going to do something, I should be able to believe it. I should be able to count on that. It wasn’t so long ago that you left the house, told me you were running to the store and hit two drug stores instead before wrecking our life.

  Frowning, he nodded.

  Shane: Are you going to ever let this go?

  me: It’s not about that. If I couldn’t let anything go, I’d be long gone, but I’m not. I’m here. I had my out. I could have left. I could have taken off with Kylie and you wouldn’t have seen either of us until the order ended a year from now and maybe not even then. Instead, I’m giving you a chance...you know, those chances you claim you never get?

  Shane: Right. I see that.

  me: So, I need to be able to count on you. I need to feel like I matter, like Kylie and I are first in your life, your priority.

  Shane: Now you don’t feel like a priority.

  me: No. Why would I?

  Shane: I do everything for you.

  me: No, you don’t, but you think you do. What about Saturday? You ran off to take your friend to an interview, then waited for him to be done and were gone for hours. Great that you were helping a friend. You could have been helping your wife. I can always use help around the house and with Kylie.

  He sighed.

  me: Then you disappeared and I didn’t matter enough for a phone call, or for you to answer the calls I made. Keep telling me I matter. Keep trying to convince me you can be trusted...that you can be relied on.

  For a while he was silent. Obviously my words had some impact on him. We drove for a while as he thought about our conversation. Finally, as we neared the courthouse, he spoke.

  Shane: What will it take for you to trust me, to know you can count on me?

  me: Keep your word. Prove it. Every day.

  He gave me a reassuring smile.

  Shane: I can do that.

  Though I didn’t say a word out loud, all I could think was...we’ll see.

  We walked into the courtroom about twenty minutes before the session was supposed to start. I recognized the Victim’s Assistance associate immediately. Though she hadn’t seen me for two weeks, she motioned for me to come talk to her immediately.

  woman: How are things going?

  me: Good. I’m hoping to dismiss the Order of Protection.

  Wearing a stricken look, she spoke to me.

  woman: Why would you want to do that?

  me: Well, he’s in this intensive therapy program mandated by the mental health court. If he doesn’t follow through, I just have to call and they will come pick him up.

  While I spoke, I tried to sound confident, but so far, I wasn’t. He hadn’t really had any therapy yet. His first appointment had been just yesterday and when I asked about it, he told me ever so briefly what happened.

  Shane: He tried to tell me I was wrong to break things when I was angry, but I explained that it’s my stuff I’m breaking and I can fix it. Then he saw my point.

  His words had astounded me. Somehow he was still managing to manipulate those around him. Was I really the only one that called him out? Look how well that went for me? So, then I had asked what his therapy program was going to be like.

  Shane: He didn’t schedule one.

  me: So when do you go back?

  Shane: I don’t think I do.

  This was the extent of this big 90 day INTENSIVE program I had agreed to let him back on? There was no follow through. How could I fault him when they were the ones dropping the ball? Really, I couldn’t, but if he had another breakdown, heads would roll.

  All this ran through my mind as the woman tried to convince me not to do it, to not count on mental health court. What were my other options? Where would he live? What kind of protection could I be offered if we lived together? None of this made sense. The system was broken.

  The clerk came over when I motioned.

  me: What is the procedure to dismiss?

  clerk: Is this the year-long or temporary order?

  me: Temporary.

  Walking back over to this desk and files, he pulled a paper from a manila folder and handed it to me to sign. Once that was done, he wished me well and so did the woman.

  woman: Please be careful. Let us know if you ever need us again.

  me: Thank you.

  Shane had been sitting in the back of the room on the end of the very last wooden bench. When I stood and walked toward him, he rose and followed me through the doors, to the elevator, and out of the building. Together, we drove back to pick up our baby girl and head to our home.

  What I thought to be the end of our relationship happened on a Monday. Stupid Mondays. Now, nearly a month later, we’re in a completely different place.

  We’ve survived our first fight. We’ve survived court. We’ve even survived the monotony of daily life. It’s been much smoother. I would use the smooth sailing expression...but in our experience...the sailing was never smooth. We once de-masted a sailboat.

  We’re pursuing a new dream...or maybe we’re pursuing the same dream a new way. All I know is that for the first time in forever, I feel like we are a team again. We have our connection back. It’s not been an easy road that we’ve traveled. That isn’t our style. Working at it. Trying...every day. That’s our style.

  So, every day was a little more normal...a good normal, not the normal that made me want to leave and start over, the one that made me happy with the life that we had...together. Shane watched Kylie while I worked on getting ready to take her to the doctor. It was shot day. I was dreading it. Thank goodness she’s resilient, like her mommy.

  As soon as I was dres
sed, I picked her up, grabbed my purse that doubled as her quick trip diaper bag, and headed to the vehicle. We said our goodbyes to Shane before leaving. He was working on selling some of his coins on eBay. I called my mother on the way. It was easiest to speak to her in the car. Kylie was contained so I didn’t have to worry about what she was getting into. Shane wasn’t there to talk in one ear. Seriously. Quite possibly my biggest pet peeve. Mom was thrilled to hear from me.

  Mom: Are you still coming for Thanksgiving?

  me: Absolutely.

  Mom: What about moving? Are you still considering that?

  me: Yup. It’s in the works. We are working on a plan.

  She sounded happier and better than she had in a while. I knew hearing that we were coming to visit, that she was finally going to meet Kylie, it all played a huge role in her recovery. More than that, it cemented my belief that this was the best plan for everyone involved.

  We ended the call as I pulled into the doctor’s office with a promise for me to call again soon. The sky was a lovely shade of blue with just a few clouds to break it up. Certainly, it was shaping up to be a beautiful fall day, though I didn’t expect to get to enjoy any of it. After the shot, Kylie’s nutritionist would be visiting. That always took a good hour. I’d be lucky to have a free minute before dinner. That’s when it occurred to me that Shane would ask me later what I wanted to do that night.

  It was while we were sitting in the waiting room that Lily messaged me.

  Lily: What are you doing tonight?

  me: No plans yet. You?

  Lily: We should go to Monterrey’s...all of us.

  me: I would love that. It’s about time we work on healing this rift and that’s the perfect place.

  Lily: I’ll talk to Lyle, you talk to Shane.

  me: Yup. I’ll let you know.

  After the appointment when we were snuggling Kylie on the couch after her nap, I finally was able to talk to Shane about dinner.

  me: Hey, I almost forgot. Want to go to Monterrey’s for dinner with Lyle and Lily?

  I tried to make the question sound natural, like it was no big deal, like we still did this all the time. Then I sat back and waited for his response. Not so long ago he had claimed they weren’t friends anymore. Of course, at that same time, he had kicked me out. Things changed. Feelings changed. Shane...seemed to have changed.

  Shane: Sure, why not? We should fix things, right?

  me: Yeah, I think so.

  Then I happily sent Lily a reply message letting her know we were on.

  me: What time?

  Lily: Ummm...Lyle doesn’t want to unless Shane apologizes for the things he said.

  me: So no dinner then.

  Lily: LOL. Right?

  Dinner was off.

  Hours later, I was trying to figure out what to tell Shane by means of explanation for dinner simply not happening. That’s when her next message came through.

  Lily: We’re on! I pulled the ‘WWJD’ on him and it worked.

  me: Yay!

  That’s why we were working on getting ready to leave the house with Kylie at 7pm. Somehow, I knew this night was important. We needed it to heal...all of us. We had never been to dinner with the kids, so that in and of itself was huge. This was a new era for Monterrey’s. When Shane and I first started dating, he wouldn’t let me go there. He would go to dinner with Lyle and Lily and that group of friends and I was able to meet up later, but never eat with them. In fact, it wasn’t until we were engaged that I was invited. That was where we announced our engagement, our pregnancy, and now...our reconciliation.

  When we walked in carrying Kylie, they were already set up with a corner booth. Isaac was in his car seat, just happily hanging out. Shane sat across from us next to Lyle and Isaac. I sat in the middle on the other side, Kylie in her car seat on one side, Lily on the other near her baby.

  We ordered our usual, the queso dip and every salsa they made to start. Then after loading up on chips, and effectively blowing the diet for the day, we ordered our dinners. Through the entire meal, Shane was light, breezy, and fun. Shane was also drinking beer. As long as he stayed cool, I could.

  After dinner, while we were all hanging out talking at the table, he rose to go to the bathroom and smoke out on the patio. With his absence, Lyle was quick to comment.

  Lyle: It’s old Shane! He’s back!

  I nodded.

  me: He’s much better in so many ways.

  Lily: He’s coherent. I can’t remember the last time we hung out and he seemed...here. If you know what I mean.

  me: Oh, I know. He’s like this around the house, too. It’s a nice change.

  Lyle: I’m so glad we did this.

  me: Yeah, me, too!

  Later that night, after we tucked Kylie into her crib, we spoke about the evening.

  Shane: I had a really great time. What about you?

  me: I did, too.

  We settle onto the couch to relax and snuggle. For a moment we had considered the hammock in the garage, but then we admitted that we were too full for that to be comfortable. As we laid there, basking in the afterglow of a successful family night, Shane shared what he had apparently been considering for some time.

  Shane: You know...I feel great.

  me: I’m so glad to hear that.

  Shane: And I don’t want to be dependent on drugs my entire life.

  Now, he didn’t seem to mind being dependent on drugs when they were fun. He chased pills for well over a year. It was just these drugs that seemed to be crimping his style.

  me: Don’t you run the risk of withdrawal if you just stop?

  Shane: Oh, I’ll wean off gradually. I just think I can hold it together now. I don’t need them anymore.

  One of my fears with returning, with trying to be there and give him another chance has always been that he wouldn’t maintain. I didn’t have a lot of faith he could do this on his own. He had been trying that for years and it hadn’t worked well so far. What made now different? I didn’t ask.

  We’d had a nice dinner. Just the day before he had assured me he’d prove himself to be reliable. Maybe he was just talking. I mean, it wasn’t like he had already started weaning without doctor consent. It was simply something he was considering. Since I was already here, I’d give him a chance.

  There are all kinds of happy endings. Sometimes it’s the princess riding off in the horse drawn carriage with her prince, sometimes its the princess standing on her own two feet, walking out the door with her amazing baby and never looking back. That latter one...that was me.

  Over time...and not even a lot of time, I could see him slipping, back pedaling. He started losing his patience, snapping at me, throwing attitude. Then he started slamming again if I ever called him out on anything...lying in bed all day, not helping me with Kylie, not showing any interest in me. Shane was back to drinking regularly, stopped taking his meds as prescribed, and there was no more therapy...marriage or court mandated. Aside from that one random occurrence, we had no sex life. I felt no connection. I did, however, start dreaming of leaving.

  As his temper issues escalated, I realized that a ditch bag in the vehicle wasn’t going to be enough for us. Instead, I would need a ditch storage locker. So, I took that bank card with my money on it and I rented one. I used my waking hours wisely. Shane rarely rode in my vehicle, so I would load the cargo bay with items for the locker and make regular trips there to fill it with everything we would need over time.

  At home, I put on a happy face and tried to pretend it didn’t bother me that he came and went as he pleased, that he treated me like a damn maid, or that it never bothered him that I was the sole caregiver for our daughter. Sometimes that whole fake it until you make it thing works. In my case, I found my happy in the loading of the locker. When I was angry or upset, I mentally packed. When Shane was gone, I physically packed.

  Then, one day, I had enough.

  Seriously, I’d had enough of him...the way he treated me, his tantrums,
his manipulations, his constant control. On the bright side, by then I also had enough money, and enough provisions that I didn’t have to tolerate it any longer. It was a cold winter day. Even if there is no snow, it can still get mighty cold in Charlotte. This was such a time period. We were supposed to be getting ready to move, to head further south, Florida for my mother. He had woken up, come out cranky, eaten some cookies, smoked a cigarette, and headed back to bed..the same one I had made minutes before. He was lying there, fully clothed, shoes on...one of my pet peeves. I was struggling to get my writing done and care for Kylie while he lounged around. Finally, I confronted him.

  me: We’re supposed to be a team.

  Shane: There’s nothing for me to do.

  me: Seriously? Try helping me.

  Shane: I’m tired.

  me: No you aren’t, you’re depressed. And there’s plenty for you to do, but you don’t want to do any of it. Must be nice, since that’s a luxury I don’t have.

  Shane: What is there for me to do?

  me: How about painting? You could clean. You could watch your daughter so I can work. How come when you work from home, you expect to be completely undisturbed, yet when I work from home, I still have to do everything?

  Shane: You are such a miserable bitch! Go ahead, call me a lazy asshole. I know you want to.

  It was the truth, but I didn’t need to call him that. I didn’t need anything. After leaving the room frustrated, I sent a message to Julia venting about the situation.

  Julia: Get out. Go now.

  me: I’m in a bathrobe. Kylie is in the middle of a feed.

  Julia: Then go as soon as the feed is done and you are dressed.

  Minutes later, Shane came storming out of the bedroom, slamming doors and drawers. He was going on about how he never had a minute to relax. Right...because he worked so hard he needed that time. Me...well, apparently I could do all my relaxing when I was dead. Tears streamed down my face.

  They were tears of goodbye. In my heart, which was shattered into now unrecoverable shards, I was certain there was no way for us to make this work. Kylie deserved better. Sometimes being down a parent was better than having a bad parent making us feel like less than we are. I had been everything to her for two years, and I could do that forever. It was the best job I’d ever had and I was really good at it.