He heard her coming down the stairs and looked over as she stepped into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” he said.
She looked his way but said nothing, then stepped over to the coffee maker.
“How did you sleep?” he said as she sat down across the family room.
“Okay.”
She sipped her coffee with her eyes closed, saying nothing. After just a few minutes, she got up, put her cup in the sink and went back upstairs. When she came back down, she was dressed for the day.
“Leaving?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“When will you be home?”
“This afternoon,” she said with a sigh. “I told you.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Well, have a good day.”
She left without saying goodbye.
Still drinking his coffee, he wondered where his wife was going. No doubt she’d told him, but he couldn’t remember, and he wasn’t about to ask. That would only upset her, and she would scold him for not listening.
She used to not be this way. For many years, she was warm and affectionate, and they were as close as two people can be.
But then came The Incident. He felt bad and apologized, but she wouldn’t let it go. She held it over him and became cold to him.
He changed too. Anymore, his goal was simply to not upset her. He put up with her callousness because he knew he had been at fault and he was afraid, if he did something wrong again, she would leave him. Better to live with distance than live alone.
And so he deferred to her, and she controlled him, like a marionette on invisible strings.
“Good morning,” he said.
She looked his way but said nothing, then stepped over to the coffee maker.
“How did you sleep?” he said as she sat down across the family room.
“Okay.”
She sipped her coffee with her eyes closed, saying nothing. After just a few minutes, she got up, put her cup in the sink and went back upstairs. When she came back down, she was dressed for the day.
“Leaving?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“When will you be home?”
“This afternoon,” she said with a sigh. “I told you.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Well, have a good day.”
She left without saying goodbye.
Still drinking his coffee, he wondered where his wife was going. No doubt she’d told him, but he couldn’t remember, and he wasn’t about to ask. That would only upset her, and she would scold him for not listening.
She used to not be this way. For many years, she was warm and affectionate, and they were as close as two people can be.
But then came The Incident. He felt bad and apologized, but she wouldn’t let it go. She held it over him and became cold to him.
He changed too. Anymore, his goal was simply to not upset her. He put up with her callousness because he knew he had been at fault and he was afraid, if he did something wrong again, she would leave him. Better to live with distance than live alone.
And so he deferred to her, and she controlled him, like a marionette on invisible strings.
