“Yep. Except, is it? I don’t know if he meant it or if it was his 103-degree fever talking.”
“Oh. Has he said it since then?” Norah’s brow wrinkles.
“No. I’m not sure he even remembers saying it.”
“And you aren’t going to ask him.” It should be a question, but Norah isn’t asking.
“NO!” I yell, then lower my voice, embarrassed. “No. I couldn’t do that. I don’t know how I’ll survive the rest of the year if I let myself develop unreciprocated feelings for my husband. At least now, come November, I can walk away without regrets.”
“Do you actually believe that, Nalani?” Norah asks gently.
“Believe what?” Even I hear how obstinate I sound. Like a child, digging in my heels.
“Do you actually believe that after spending a year sharing an apartment and sleeping with Ames, you’ll be able to happily shake hands and go your separate ways? No regrets? None of your heart left behind?”
I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine that specific moment yet. The thought of saying goodbye to Ames, to signing those papers and never seeing him again, makes me feel physically ill.
“Nalani? You look like you’re going to be sick. You think maybe you’re already past the point where you can walk away without being hurt?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “How did I let this happen?”
“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing? You’re forgetting, you don’t have to walk away. Didn’t you both say that you would re-evaluate at the year mark? What if you get to your anniversary and you both want to stay married? Have you even considered staying with him?”
“I haven’t. No matter how much I enjoy spending times with Ames, no matter how good the sex is, no matter how comfortable our life is, I don’t want to tie myself into a marriage for convenience’s sake. Or worse, what if being with me keeps Ames from meeting the person he is supposed to share his life with?”
“What if you’re that person?” Norah challenges me, fire in her eyes. “It doesn’t seem like you’re trapped in a marriage of convenience. Ames said he loves you. Maybe he wouldn’t have chosen to tell you that way, when he’s sick and doesn’t remember it, but if he said it then it’s safe to assume those feelings are there. Why would he lie to you because he has the flu? That makes no fucking sense.”
I start to argue, but Norah holds her hand up, stopping me from continuing. “Look, I know you’re scared, and we both know I suck at working through my own feelings, but that is exactly where I’m coming from. Once I got to the point where I said those three little words out loud, I meant them. Ames and I come from the same place. All I’m saying is, don’t discount his words because of how you heard them. He hasn’t given you any reason not to trust him, has he? Please, consider talking to him about it. Wouldn’t what you have together be even better if it was fully real? What if you have the chance to have it all and you threw it away because you’re a coward?” I wince and Norah reaches over, squeezing my shoulder. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but sometimes we need to hear the truth, even if it hurts.”
“I will think about it.”
I’m quiet as we shop, mulling over Norah’s words. It’s not that I think she’s wrong, it’s that, ultimately, I am a coward. We get some steaks to throw on the grill, zucchini, yellow squash, and purple sweet potatoes. Norah grabs a couple spam musubis from the deli to hold the guys over until dinner is ready. While I’m paying, she texts Ames to have him preheat the oven because I’m too distracted. Apparently, she asked me three times and I didn’t notice. Once we’re back at the apartment, the prep work is pretty easy. We clean, stab, and toss the sweet potatoes into the oven. Ames seasons the steaks and lets them rest. Norah and I sliver the vegetables before tossing them in olive oil, garlic, salt, and pepper. We can hear the guys loading up the charcoal chimney and celebrating when everything lights the way it should.
“Nice! That dog’ll hunt.” Ames drawls.
“Ya, she run!” Ka‘eo agrees. Norah and I look at each other and the laughter bubbles out. With everything ready, we join our husbands on the lanai, the smell of charcoal heavy on the air.
“Steaks look good, Brah!” K bumps Ames’ fist. “I can’t wait to eat!”
The coals are ready and Ames handles the steaks while Ka‘eo does the vegetables in the grill basket.
“Everything smells really good, Babe!” Norah squeezes Ka‘eo around the middle. “I love when we grill.”
I look over Ames’ shoulder at the steaks searing over the open flame. “Do they pass muster?” he asks me.
“Perfect. Good job!” I squeeze his butt and he yelps, jumping up. Norah and K crack up and Ames looks at me, wide eyed. “Squeeze five.” I explain.
As I was hoping, Ames brays his most endearing laugh. “I knew you’d figure it out! I dig it. You better watch yourself. I’m going to squeeze five the crap out of you the next time you do something worth celebrating!” The Maheloas don’t even ask. They just shake their heads at us, like the two of us being weird together is just expected.
I was trying to be playful but, after talking to Norah, everything is tinged with melancholy. Unless Ames and I stay together, I’m going to lose all of this. Them. We serve everything up, sitting with our plates in our laps and watch the sunset over Kaneohe Bay. In between bites of perfectly grilled steak, smoky vegetable spears, and soft baked ube, I survey my friends. They’ve all become so dear to me. Feisty Norah with her badass golden blonde pixie cut and cute freckles; giant Ka‘eo with his broad, friendly face and long, dark curls; and my husband. Ames has his golden vitality back. His skin has a sun-kissed glow in the light of the setting sun and his deep blue eyes find mine, crinkling up at the corners as he smiles at me. If this falls apart, they’ll all still have each other. I’m the one who has everything to lose. I won’t even be able to maintain the same relationship with my cousin — his marriage takes priority and I’ll be the awkward outlier that no longer fits. Keeping them all in my life should make my decision easier, but there’s no such thing as an easy decision for me. And now the stakes just keep raising, making me feel even more overwhelmed.
Over the last six weeks I’ve had to pour increasing amounts of energy into guarding my heart against the potential hurt that would come with falling in love with my husband. Not being with Ames could crush my heart, but I’m beginning to understand that staying with him, growing to care for him more and more if he doesn’t love me will be the same kind of agony, only slowly drawn out. We’ve been married for six months now, and they have been the best six months of my life. I’m feeling BRCA-test-anticipation-level fear about the state of my heart in six more months. I don’t know what to do. I’m battling the desire to have as much time with him as possible and the urge to run as far and as fast as I can, insurance be damned. Normally Ames is who I would talk such a big problem through with. I feel doubly screwed and very alone. Ames has duty and I’m so agitated I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’ve been next level exhausted, falling asleep mid-day sometimes, crashing early and even sleeping in. The worry is making me feel sick to my stomach all day. I need to talk to someone, to get rid of this exhausting and debilitating worry.
Me: I’m working myself up to a breakdown. Can we talk?
Dr. Chung: I can fit you in. Be here in an hour
Thank God for Dr. Chung. In the past I would have spiraled until I shut down. Or maybe, now that I have a real girlfriend, I might have reached out to Norah to vent, but ended the day ultimately feeling the same. I know, though, I don’t need to vent. I need clarity. I need to work through what is making me feel this way. I need help, not just a friendly ear.
Dr. Chung’s office in Kailua is quiet and peaceful. There’s a calming air that has as much to do with the decor as it does the woman herself. Everything is neat, uncluttered, and cozy. She ushers me into her office, tucking one side of her silver-streaked black bob behind an ear. I choose my favorite upholstered armchair, with my back to the windows so I don�
�t get distracted by the view of the ocean in the distance.
“You said you were worried about working yourself up. What has you feeling this way?” Dr. Chung crosses her legs, pen poised over her notepad. I explain to her my complicated feelings about letting myself fall for Ames and my worry that I’m setting myself up for heartbreak if he doesn’t feel the same way.
“Why do you believe he doesn’t feel the same way?”
“I just know. There’s nothing…more. He looks at me the same way and he treats me the same way as he always has. He hasn’t said anything about altering plans or anything. He never talks about the future, our future. And that man loves planning and setting goals! There has been absolutely nothing in his words or behaviors to indicate that he feels anything but physical attraction. I don’t know what to do! I’m not sure if I should give it the next six months, because that’s what we agreed on, and just hope something changes? Because I know I could end up loving him completely, without reciprocation, and that rejection will kill me. Or I can leave now, blindsiding him, but saving myself from the pain I know I’ll have after another six months with him. Every option sucks, even ignoring the fact that both paths leave me alone and without his superior insurance while waiting for cancer to get me.”
“I recall you told me he said he loved you when he was sick. But you doubt that?”
“He said it when he had the flu! He doesn’t even remember that he said it and he hasn’t said it since! I think I want it to be true, but I just don’t see how it can be.”
“Do you think some of this could be dealt with by talking to him directly?” Dr. Chung asks gently.
“I couldn’t do that!” I wail. “What if he didn’t mean it the first time? I don’t know how I feel for sure, but I couldn’t take hearing that it was a mistake.”
She pauses, lightly tapping her pen against her chin. “How would you feel about asking him, in a more roundabout way, what he thinks things will look like in six months? If you’re not feeling confident about asking him outright if he loves you, ask him about the future. Feel him out, find out where he’s at right now. Is he envisioning you two filing for a divorce in November, then hanging out with your friends to celebrate their anniversary? Or does the thought scare him because he hasn’t considered his life without you?”
“That feels more doable than just blurting out ‘do you love me’ with no context.”
“You don’t have to ask him outright or share your own feelings, but you could at least find out what he thinks is going to happen after the year is up. Whether you allow yourself to spiral about the presence or absence of love, neither of you should allow yourselves to be blindsided by the approaching end of your contract. You should both be thinking about what happens in six months, regardless. And then maybe that will help inform your decision.”
“Maybe I could do that. Don’t reveal anything or make demands. Just see what he’s thinking.”
Dr. Chung nods carefully. “Don’t lose hope, and don’t let your worries run away with you. Listen to what he actually says. Watch how he actually reacts. Give him time to answer. You want your first reaction to be listening, with positivity. Keep working on that being your default instead of assuming the worst and retreating into yourself.” I’m nodding along with her words, reminding myself. We’ve talked about this a lot. I know I’m getting better at it, but it’s definitely not my default.
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are. And if you think back, you’ll see all the progress you’ve made. Allow yourself to hope for the best. To remember that you deserve it and you’re allowed to want it.” She holds out a tissue box as I start sniffling. I’m still not used to this part. I always get so emotional. At the end of the hour, I feel a little better equipped to approach Ames. I want to know where we stand. I want to hope for more. I just have to be brave.
A couple of days later, we’re getting home from a run. It’s not late enough in the day for things to have cooled down much and we’re both flushed and sweaty. I head straight up to get some water. Ames comes in after me, having stopped to strip his clothes off at the washing machine, and stands by the open lanai door like a sweat-soaked Adonis. I’m about to gesture towards the shower to get him naked when his phone rings.
“Lieutenant Cabot.”
Well that sucks. Who knows how long a work call will take? Depending on what he’s needed for it could be anywhere from a couple of minutes to a half an hour. I’m hot and hungry. I guess I might as well go get cleaned up by myself and start dinner. I have a load of laundry to do too. I step back out of the bathroom with my sweaty clothes, intending to put them on the basket I had pulled out earlier when something Ames is saying catches my attention. I don’t make it a habit of listening to his conversations, but I find myself hovering in the open bathroom doorway, naked and eavesdropping.
“Right. About six months.”
Is he talking about us? Maybe he discovered it wasn’t a work call after he answered. I should have stuck around a little longer.
“That would take us through October? Ok. And I’d go to the mainland?”
I sneak a peek around the corner and he’s looking out over the bay, running his fingers through his blond hair. His shoulders look tense.
“I don’t see any reason why I’d need to stick around longer. Everything will be done by then. I’ve done everything required of me and more.”
My stomach sinks and I suddenly feel sick. All my fears are being confirmed. He doesn’t have a reason to stay after October. I knew this couldn’t be real. It sounds like he’s wrapping up the conversation and I step backwards into the bathroom, leaving the door open a small crack.
“Alright, man. No, I’m sure about the timeline. Everything will be taken care of on my end.”
I’ve heard enough. I close the door the rest of the way and lock it so Ames can’t surprise me. I shower, taking a little longer because I’m curled up, sobbing under the spray as quietly as I can. I don’t even know who he was talking to, but he was very comfortable telling them that he was sure he’d be leaving in November. We still have six months, but he already has one foot out the door. Maybe I could be wrong. Couldn’t I? I only heard part of what was being said.
I finish washing up, trying to calm the tears and hide my feelings. I’m not ready to talk to him yet. There’s still what Dr. Chung and I talked about to consider. Before I do anything rash, I should ask him what his plans are. That’s the adult thing to do. That’s the option that makes the most sense. It’s not going to help anything if I storm out of the shower and freak out on him like an emotional bomb primed to go off. I need to calm down. I’ll get dressed, make dinner, go to bed as usual and make a plan to speak to him, calmly and rationally. I need to know what he’s feeling. I owe it to myself to do that much. There’s too much at stake to do anything else.
44
Ames
Nalani has seemed different lately. I’m not sure what it is. She’s affectionate, we still talk, but she seems…guarded. Or like something is weighing on her. I have been very confused by the vibe at home. I feel more comfortable and more in love with Nalani with every passing day. After she nursed me back to health, I was ready to share my feelings with her. We felt closer and I was hopeful that telling her I love her wouldn’t scare her off. But now she seems extremely closed off. For the first time in my adult life, I’m indecisive. I could tell her, and she could reciprocate, making our marriage legitimate. Or I could tell her, she could reveal she doesn’t feel the same way, and the remainder of our contract marriage is incredibly awkward, at the very least. Soul-crushing at worst. I have so much to lose. I’m not sure if I should tell her now and risk losing her completely rather than waiting and giving myself another six months to be with her, especially if there’s always the possibility she could fall for me during that time. I still have hope. When the end goal is forever with Nalani, waiting a while longer may be the safer option. When did I become so cautious?
Our arrang
ement is very isolating. I don’t have anyone to talk to about this. If I wasn’t such a chickenshit I would come clean to Nalani. She’s seemed particularly worn out lately and on top of the emotional side of things, I’m worried about her physically. I swear she’s lost some weight and she looks tired all the time. I don’t want to make her anxious, but on my own I’m starting to freak out. What if it’s cancer? I’m considering going ahead and scheduling her yearly screening, just so we can be sure. The worry is beginning to keep me up at night and the anxiety is leaching into the rest of my days. I’m about to be at the point where I’m lashing out at people for no reason, letting my unrelated stress rule over me. All I need to do is figure out what is going on with my wife’s health. And her feelings for me. That’s doable, right?
I don’t like feeling like there’s a problem I don’t know how to fix, and I don’t like the thought that she’s keeping something from me. It seemed like she was on the verge of telling me something, numerous times, but she never does. I even asked her about it, but she shrugged it off. Finally, on Friday night, while we were making dinner, she says something. It definitely feels like there’s more to it, some weight behind her words, but I’m wary of reading into it and making it more than she means it to be. I make myself hold back and listen, like she’s asked me to. I owe it to her to try not to control everything.
“So, Maka,” she starts, with a nonchalance that feels forced and weird, “we’ve been married for over six months now.”
“I guess that’s right,” I respond, continuing to chop vegetables and trying to give her space to talk. “It’s hard to believe it’s already been that long.”
“I know. It’s gone by fast, but then it also feels like we’ve been together for much longer.” She pauses and I keep chopping, not really knowing if I’m supposed to fill in the empty spaces or wait her out.
Like a Good Wife (Oahu Naval Officers Book 2) Page 23