so madly in love with when I was younger. The man I made my life with. The man that gave me two of the most beautiful children in the world.
“I don’t make you happy, do I?” I ask.
He sets the suitcase on the floor, sits next to me, and we start the conversation we should’ve had a long time ago.
“If you’re asking if I’m happy, the answer’s no. This isn’t the relationship I want. You’re my wife, Tori, and you can’t even hold my hand without making me feel like I repulse you.”
His words tear me wide open. I thought he couldn’t tell. I thought I was doing a good job at faking it.
“You just lie there while we’re having sex. Like all you want is for it to be over with.”
“I’m sorry,” I say as a year’s worth of hidden pain falls from my eyes.
“I haven’t felt your love in a really long time.” His voice cracks as his own tears spill over. “Tell me what’s going on because I’ve been feeling you drifting for months now. I’ve been scared to say anything for fear that you’d run. But I feel like I’m the only one trying to hold us together, and I’m so tired, Tor. I’m so fucking worn out.”
We’ve been slowly slipping this whole year, and now, we’re no longer lovers—we’re roommates.
I need to be honest and selfless, so I dig deep and grab on to what little strength I have left, and tell him, “You deserve to be with someone who can make you happy.”
“I want to be with you, Tori. You’re my wife.” His voice is thick with emotion.
“But you’re not happy.”
“Because I don’t feel your heart is in this anymore. I don’t need much to make me happy, just you. A wife who lets me touch her. A wife who wants to make love to me. A wife who wants to sit next to me on the couch instead of running away to be alone in the bedroom. I don’t think I’m asking for much, but I need to feel that you love me.”
Heartbreak drips from my chin and falls onto his hands that are now holding mine. I can’t even bring myself to look him in the eyes when I admit, “I know, but I . . .” I take my hands from his because he shouldn’t be touching a monster like me. “The thing is . . . I don’t want to try.”
Landon’s head falls into his hands. His cries are painful to listen to. “Why are you doing this to us? What is it that you need? Just tell me and I’ll give it to you.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lifting his head, he looks at me. “What are you trying to say? Do you want out?”
And here it is, my moment to give him the words I’ve been too afraid to say for all this time. I take attempt to take a deep breath, but I can’t. The hurt is too much. “I think another woman could make you happier than I can.”
“I don’t want another fucking woman. I want you!”
“I wish I could love you like you deserve to be loved,” I cry, hating myself for doing this to him.
His eyes widen in horror. “You don’t love me?”
“I do.” I’m quick to soothe—to do what I can to take this pain away from him. “I love you enough that I can’t be selfish with you anymore. I want to keep you because you’re so damn good to me and I love our family, but I’ve changed and so has the love.”
“You’re not willing to fight for this? You’re my goddamn life.”
“How long do we hang on? We’ve been falling apart for a year.”
“One year of fighting after we’ve spent thirteen years building this life together, and you’re ready to walk away? I’d fight for you till the death.”
What do I say when I don’t feel the same? I don’t want to lie to comfort him, so I don’t respond.
Neither one of us speaks for a long time, we only cry, filling the room with the most astounding sadness that could possibly exist. He doesn’t touch me, and I don’t touch him. We’re two individuals, no longer melded as one. I see how badly he’s hurting, and I wish I could change my heart’s desire, but I know I can’t. I’ve lost the love I once had for him, and the chances of finding it barely amount to anything.