made of right now, and all of us have been pulled in by its gravity. Uncertainty.
A WORLD IN RUINS
7
~ Demi ~
He’ll be home soon. I just got here myself, and before I’ll be able to settle in with a drink and some much-needed time alone, Eli will drag himself into the house and plop down on the couch next to me smelling of the outdoors and shame. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. Maybe I’ll take Dr. Colson’s advice and separate myself from him. If I just shut the door to the bedroom, he wouldn’t dare come inside.
The session with Dr. Malcolm Colson yesterday was interesting. Talking this shit out with Eli is like trying to squeeze orange juice from one of the rocks in our driveway, but Dr. Colson has a way of making things a little easier. He’s so calm, and does a great job of being a mediator for us, although I know he’s much more than that. I hope he’s as good as I’ve heard he is, because I’m honestly not sure if Eli and I are able to get through this. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to learn this new version of forgiveness Dr. Colson speaks of. I don't know if I have it in me, because all I seem to be able to feel these days is anger and confusion.
As I walk into the house, I toss my briefcase onto the couch, and step out of my white heels, kicking them off one foot at a time and leaving them on the tile floor. Part of me hopes Eli walks in and trips over them.
I walk into the kitchen and grab the largest wine glass we have and fill it to the brim, then it’s off to the living room for me, where my couch calls out to me, begging me to lay across it with my feet up.
The second my butt hits the cushion, the memory of the night I found out about Eli’s … mistake … comes rushing back to me. It was an accident, I remember. I was never the type of wife to rummage through my husband’s phone on a mission to find something I can get mad over. We’d just had a great day together, actually. Before this, we always had great days.
We’d been sitting on the couch, in the exact same place I’m sitting right now, drinking wine and laughing about the way LeBron James falls to the floor with his arms flailing every time someone on the other team touches him in the slightest way. Eli had just finished his wine, and got up to go top it off, and once he was in the kitchen, he received a text notification on his phone.
“Was that my phone?” He’d asked, and I told him it was without ever looking at it. There wasn’t a single part of me that even wanted to look at his screen. I wasn’t going to do it until he asked me to.
“Who’s that, babe?” He’d asked in a tipsy, playful voice. “Is that John texting to talk shit about the score of the game? You tell that motherfucker the Sixers will come back. I don't care if they’re down by twenty or not.”
With a smile, I picked up his phone and read the text, preparing to deliver the message exactly the way Eli had spoken it to me.
Amber: Hey, I just wanted to let you know I didn’t tell anyone about this weekend. I know it was a mistake. I know you're happily married. We were drunk, and it was stupid. And although I find you breathtakingly hot, I can't pursue this. I know you won’t either. So, I guess what I’m saying is that it’s our secret, and I’ll take it to my grave. I promise. I just wanted you to know that. For what it’s worth, I had a great time. Demi is a lucky woman.
The blood drained from my face, and all I could feel was cold. A winter storm had snuck in through the gap at the bottom of the door and plunged the temperature in the room into the negatives.
I didn’t know what to do. My brain felt as scrambled as the eggs I’d cooked Eli that same morning, and it was as if I’d stepped outside of my body and stood idly by, watching as I picked up Eli’s phone, input his passcode, and pressed Amber’s name. The phone started ringing just