“We’re here because I don’t think our marriage will last past the New Year.”
When he said it I didn’t blink, I didn’t jump, I didn’t show an ounce of emotion but on the inside I swore I felt my heart literally crack. People always asked us how we did it, how we managed to move on so quickly and the answer was always the same. “Faith,” “love,” “trust,” but that was all I lie. From the outside looking in we were the couple everyone wanted to be.
Before it happened, I thought we were the couple everyone should aspire to be like. But that seems like a lifetime ago now. Now my husband, the man that proposed to me after three months and married me after six was telling me he didn’t think we would last another three and a half months.
If I could turn back the hands of time….
“He blames me. He hasn’t got the balls to say it! But I see it in his face every time he doesn’t want to kiss me or touch me or even look at me! I see it in his face when he’s up in the middle of the night just looking out the window like a damn zombie! I loved him too! He was my son too!”
He laughed and picked a piece of lent from his jacket. “You’re right I blame you. You’re fucking right! I asked you not to drink when you were picking him up, why the fuck couldn’t you just wait to you got home!?”
“It was one glass of wine, the accident wasn’t my fault!”
“That one fucking glass could have been the difference between you running that stop sign and you stopping! Fuck legal limits and lawyers, he’s dead because of you! And I wouldn’t dare put another child in you so your selfish ass can just kill her or him too.”
The therapist was trying to calm him down but the words were already spoken. He hated me and I couldn’t blame him, I hated myself. I thought about that glass of wine every night. I went thru everything from the car seat to if I really ran that stop sign. I didn’t think it was possible for him to love someone more than he loved me until our son. And now….
“Why are you still here then? Why the flowers and the gifts and the dinners if you hate me so much Jonathon?”
He was crying, for the first time… for the first time since the night he was at the hospital and had to identify the body he was crying. I wanted to hold him, to kiss his tears away but he hated me. I needed to know why I was with a man that would never forgive me.
“I still do all those things because he looked just like his mother. His eyes, his nose, his temper. Everything about him was perfect just like you. Sometimes I feel like God took him from us to punish me for loving you so much. You remember that sermon the first time we went to church together? Pastor J said, “Sometimes God takes from us the things we love most to show us not to put anything before him.” The day I went to that hospital and you were on life support and he was gone I prayed that if he would just spare one of you, he spared you. I live with that prayer everyday. The guilt of that prayer. So I don’t hate you Kort. I just hate that I still love you after you took my son from us.”
Session two tomorrow…