by Cathy Zane
“I’d appreciate it if you could stay focused on the issue,” she said.
“What issue?” Robert asked as he continued flipping through channels.
“The issue of who answered the phone when I called.”
“Oh that,” he said, waving the remote slightly. “Just a work colleague.”
“Why was she with you so late?”
“Sarah, what’s with the third degree?” His voice was stern now. “It’s not really any of your business.”
Sarah stepped in front of Robert. “What do you mean it’s none of my business? There’s a woman in your house at eleven at night and you say it’s none of my business?” She was angry now, and tired of his patronizing attitude. She had a right to some answers. She’d be damned if she was just going to sweep this one under the rug.
Robert stood and reached out to hold Sarah’s upper arms. “Sarah, calm down. This really isn’t something to get upset about.”
Sarah flailed and broke out of his grip. “Not something to be upset about! You are so full of shit.” Her blood was boiling. How dare he be so dismissive and condescending?
“Sarah, lower your voice. You’re screaming.”
Sarah hated how cool he seemed. It was as if the angrier she acted, the more composed he got.
“I don’t give a shit if I’m screaming. I’m going to keep screaming until I get some answers. Who the hell was she and why was she in your apartment? Is she your girlfriend? Some bimbo? Or maybe just one of your many one-night stands? Maybe you’re fucking all of LA?”
She regretted the words the second they came out of her mouth. Great job, Sarah. Way to hold it together. You’re acting like a crazy person. You’re such a mess. Can’t you do anything right?
Robert picked up his car keys and turned toward the door. “I’m not going to talk to you when you’re like this.” He started to walk away.
Sarah became frantic. She couldn’t let him leave. He had to talk to her and give her some answers. And he still didn’t know about the baby. The words came before she realized what she was saying: “I’m pregnant.”
Robert stopped and turned around slowly. “What did you say?”
“I said I’m pregnant.”
“How did that happen?”
“What, you need a lesson in sex ed?” What the fuck! Are you trying to make this worse? Be an adult.
“Cut the sarcasm, Sarah,” Robert said as he turned away. He put his hand up to his head and then turned back to her. “I don’t know how you could let this happen. How could you be so careless? I’m not going to do this again. Just get it taken care of.”
“Taken care of? What the hell are you saying?”
“You know damn well what I’m saying. Have an abortion. End of conversation. I won’t have another child.”
“No! I won’t. I want this baby. I want Lizzy to have a brother or sister.” Sarah’s voice trembled and her lower lip quivered.
“Give it up, Sarah. You can’t manipulate me by crying. You did this to me last time and I went along with it. But not again. I won’t do it again.”
Sarah lunged at Robert, fists up. He grabbed her arms and pushed her onto the couch.
“You are so fucking childish. I’m sick of it and I’m sick of you.” Robert turned away from her and stormed out. She heard the front door slam shut and she curled up in a ball on the couch and sobbed.
Sarah was drained and chilled from crying. She’d taken a shower to warm herself and was now curled up on a chair by the window wearing a thick robe and warm socks. Robert had been gone for hours and he wasn’t picking up his phone. After six messages, she’d stopped trying. She anxiously glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was after midnight and she was starting to feel panicked. Where was he? Maybe something had happened. Maybe he’d gotten drunk and crashed his car.
You’re a terrible wife. This is all your fault. Why do you always do this? He’s right. You’re a spoiled brat. You can’t blame him for being sick of you. You’re sickening. You need to make this up to him. You need to find a way to fix this. Maybe you should just get the abortion. Maybe that would make things better.
“Oh, Robert. Please be okay,” Sarah said aloud, her tears returning. “I promise I’ll do better. I really will. Please come home to me. Please be okay.” She sat quietly for what felt like an eternity, her eyes glued to the driveway. Her heart leapt when she finally saw the flicker of his headlights. She jumped up, waiting at the wide doorway between the living room and the foyer. Breathe. Be cool. Don’t be a bitch. Be nice.
Robert came in the front door and jumped slightly when he saw Sarah standing there.
“You startled me,” he said, his voice flat. He looked away from her as he slipped out of his overcoat.
“I’ve been worried about you,” she said, struggling to keep her voice low and steady. “Where have you been? I have been trying to call you.”
“I know. I got your messages. All twenty of them.”
“I didn’t leave twenty messages,” Sarah said, wounded.
He sighed. “I was being sarcastic. I didn’t answer because I didn’t want to talk. I thought that would have been obvious to you.”
“But we need to talk.”
Robert shook his head. “No, we don’t. Not tonight. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. We can talk tomorrow.” He turned and started up the stairs.
Sarah stood motionless for a moment. She didn’t know what to do. She felt desperate. She’d been waiting for hours to talk to him. She knew she’d never be able to sleep. She was too scared and shaky. They needed to talk things through. She ran up the stairs after Robert.
“Robert! Wait!” She grabbed the back of his suit coat. “Please talk to me about this now. I’m sorry. I feel really terrible. You were right. I was being childish. I’ll do whatever you want. Please just talk to me. We’ll both feel better if we talk through this.”
“No, Sarah. We’re both tired. We can talk tomorrow. After we’ve had some time to cool off.”
“No! We need to talk now!” She felt frantic and she pulled harder on Robert’s coat, trying to stop him.
“Stop pulling on me!” He twisted his body forcefully to try to shake Sarah off, and her thick socks slid on the hardwood floor. She struggled to keep her footing, but her left foot slipped off the stair. She let go of Robert’s jacket, flailing, and reached for the banister. Her fingertips grazed the wood, but she couldn’t grab on. She fell backwards and tumbled down the stairs.
“Sarah!” Robert cried out, and he ran down the stairs to where she was lying on the floor.
Sarah felt him put his hand to her head.
“Sarah?”
She moved a little and winced, her eyes still closed.
“Don’t move. Just lie still for a minute. Where does it hurt?”
Sarah opened her eyes and tried to move again, but even the slightest movement made her grimace from the pain. “All over. My back. My arm.”
“I think we should call 911,” he said. “Don’t move. Just lie still.” He covered Sarah with a blanket and put a pillow under her head before dialing for help.
Robert stretched his neck, trying to release the pent-up tension as he thought back over the events of the night. This was his fault. Maybe he should have talked to her. But he’d been so tired and emotionally drained. He’d known that he needed sleep and hadn’t known what to say to her. He still didn’t. He knew he should tell her the truth, but that would change everything. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that. The alternative, though, was to keep creating lies. And he was so tired of all the lies.
Sarah had been so agitated while they’d waited for the paramedics, rambling about things he didn’t understand. He’d tried to keep her still and comfortable, but she’d seemed terrified. And, frankly, a little crazy. The paramedics had given her something to settle her before moving her onto a gurney and putting her in the ambulance. He’d followed in his own car and spent most of the night in a hard-plastic chair in the hospit
al waiting room.
It had given him plenty of time to think. He was ravaged with guilt. It had been horrible explaining what happened to the paramedics, the nurse, and finally the ER doctor. He knew how it looked—how it made him look. And he knew it wasn’t who he was. But it was who he’d become recently with Sarah. Not that he was blaming her. He knew it wasn’t her fault. He was to blame for not being honest. First with himself, and then with her.
He’d been watching her sleep for several hours now, sipping the latest of many cups of vending machine coffee. He was grateful she was okay. It could have been so much worse. He knew this was a wakeup call. Stephanie and Sam were right. He couldn’t continue like this.
Sarah shifted in the bed, muttered something, and opened her eyes. She looked around, confused by the unfamiliar surroundings, before seeing Robert sitting in the chair next to her bed.
“Good morning,” Robert said.
“Hey,” Sarah said groggily. She attempted to sit up, and winced. “Ow.” She fell back into the softness of the bed.
“You got bruised up pretty good. They gave you some pain medication and something to sleep, but I imagine it’s worn off by now.” Robert put his coffee cup down on the bedside table and stood up. “I’ll see if I can find the nurse to get you something more.” As he moved toward the door, Sarah called after him.
“Robert . . .”
He turned back toward her.
“The baby?”
He’d been dreading this. He walked back to the bed, sat down next to Sarah, and gently took her hand. “I’m sorry, Sarah . . .”
Sarah felt her throat tighten and her eyes fill. Robert must be wrong; he had to be wrong. She put her hand on her belly, and the tears began to pour. “No,” she almost screamed. “That can’t be true.”
“I’m sorry. I know how much you wanted this baby.” Robert hesitated before continuing. “But maybe this is for the best.”
Sarah looked at Robert, stunned. What did he say? This is for the best? How could this be for the best? He couldn’t possibly mean that.
“How can you say that?” she finally said, the agitation apparent in her voice.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this now. You should stay calm. You need to rest.”
She pushed herself up into a sitting position, bracing against the pain. “You just don’t want to talk about it. You got what you want. The baby’s gone. You don’t care how I feel.” Her eyes burned from the salt of her tears.
“That’s not fair. I do care. I know this is hard for you, but another child probably wouldn’t be the best thing right now. It’s hard enough to care for one child, and to add a baby . . . It would have been too much to do on your own.”
Sarah looked blankly at Robert. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. Did he say ‘on her own’? What did he mean by that? What was he saying? What was he telling her? She struggled to find her voice.
“On my own?” Sarah’s voice quivered, betraying her anxiety.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking . . .” Robert stopped.
“About?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. We can talk later.”
“No,” Sarah said. “Tell me. What did you mean by that?” She felt the panic pulsing through her body. Was he saying that he was leaving? He couldn’t leave. What would she do? He was right. She couldn’t manage alone.
“Not now. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“But you did say it. So tell me what you meant!”
“You really need to calm down. This isn’t good for you.”
“I can’t calm down until you tell me what you meant by doing this alone.”
“Our . . . marriage,” Robert said softly. “I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to separate.”
Sarah’s heart was racing and she felt nauseous. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t split up. There had to be a way to fix it. Something they could do. “But we haven’t even talked about all this. Maybe we should see a counselor or something.”
Robert shook his head. “That wouldn’t make a difference. I don’t need a counselor to tell me what I already know.”
Sarah watched him take a deep breath, not sure if he was going to say more or not. Her panic felt unbearable. She had to know. To understand exactly what he was saying. For him to be clear. She opened her mouth to ask, but Robert started first.
“I’m not in love with you,” he said, his face impassive. “I’m in love with someone else. In LA. My life is there and that’s where I want to be. No more secrets. No more lies.” He exhaled. “There. I said it. Finally.”
“What about our life here?”
“What life? Let’s be honest, Sarah. We’re just keeping up appearances. We need to stop pretending.”
“Pretending? I’m not pretending anything. This is my life. Our life!” Sarah felt the tears well up again.
Robert shook his head, sighed, and took a deep breath. “Okay. You’re right. I need to own this and say that I need to stop pretending. I’m the one who has been pretending.”
“This can’t be happening.” Sarah’s face felt numb.
“It’s been happening for a long time . . .”
“Maybe we just need to try harder. I know I can try harder. Please.”
“Sarah, no. I can’t. I told you. There’s nothing we could do to make this different. I’m living a lie and I feel angry all the time when I’m with you. And I take it out on you and then feel shitty about myself.” Robert looked away. “And to have it come to this, with you lying here in this bed today because of me . . . I don’t want to keep hurting you. I can’t keep doing this. That’s all there is to it.”
Sarah stifled a sob. “And you don’t think leaving is hurting me?”
“I know it feels that way now. But it’s for the best. With time, we’ll both be happier.”
“What about Lizzy?”
“Lizzy will be fine. The two of you can stay in the house and I’ll come up and see her. Let’s face it, it really won’t be all that different for her. It doesn’t need to create problems. We’ll just work it out reasonably.”
Robert’s detachment frightened Sarah. She could feel the finality of his decision and it made her feel more panicked and overwhelmed than ever.
“Reasonably? Nothing about this seems reasonable to me!” She tried to moved closer him on the bed, but pain shot through her back and she crumpled again, crying more strongly now. What was she going to do? She felt lost. Her body hurt. Her chest hurt. She’d lost everything—first the baby, and now Robert. It was like a horrible nightmare. How could this be happening?
“Sarah, please,” Robert said. He reached for her hand, hoping to soothe her. “Something broke loose inside me when you fell. I was terrified. I knew we couldn’t go on like this.”
Sarah shook her head. “This is terrible. How can you do something so terrible?”
“It would be terrible to continue,” Robert said. “You deserve better than this. We both do.” He hated seeing her so upset. He knew he probably seemed callous to her, acting so composed, but he also knew he could never explain to her that the lack of emotion had been there for him from the beginning. He’d never really loved her. But to say that now would be cruel.
Sarah quieted some and stared out the window. Robert reached up and cupped her head in his hand. “I know it’ll be hard for a while, for all of us. And there will be hell for me to pay with my parents . . .”
Sarah smiled weakly. “That’s for sure. The perfect son, divorced. It’ll be quite the scandal. A blemish on the Jenkins family name.”
“But that’s just it. I’m almost fifty years old. It’s time for me to stop living my life to please them.”
Sarah looked at him. “And what about me? Am I just some disposable pawn in all of this? Does my life even matter to you? You’re such a self-centered jerk.”
“Fair enough. I guess I deserve that.” He looked down at the floor briefly before continuing quietly. “I’ve been lying to y
ou and I’ve been lying to myself.” He looked back up at Sarah. “I know you may not believe me right now, but I am sorry. I do care about you. And about Lizzy. And I am truly very sorry.”
Sarah closed her eyes and let her head sink back into her pillow. “I don’t know what to believe. I can’t think. My head hurts and my arm hurts. I hurt all over.”
“You need something to help with that.” Robert stood up. “Let me find the nurse. And then I should check in with Kate. They want to keep you another night, so Lizzy and I will have some father–daughter time. I can make up for missing her birthday.” He leaned over and kissed Sarah on the forehead. “I’ll be back in the morning to pick you up. Try to get some rest today.”
Sarah nodded but didn’t say good-bye.
Sarah was showered, dressed, and ready to leave when Robert came back the next morning with Lizzy. The day of rest had helped, and it felt good to get out of bed and move around, but she still felt bruised all over. The doctor had told her that she’d be sore for a couple weeks, as well as some other things that she couldn’t remember now. She felt spacey, like nothing was making sense and nothing really mattered. She didn’t even feel happy when Lizzy came bouncing through the door with a big “Get Well” Mylar balloon that, she suspected, Robert had gotten from the hospital gift shop.
Lizzy ran to the chair Sarah was sitting in, the balloon bobbing and twisting just over the top of her head. “Hi Mommy! Look what we got for you!”
Sarah reached out to give her a hug. “It’s beautiful.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yes, I do,” Sarah said. She kissed Lizzy on the cheek. “Thank you, my very thoughtful girl.”
“Daddy said you fell down and got hurt,” Lizzy said, her face suddenly serious.
“I did. But I am okay now and ready to go home.”