Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“If you can have results to me in ten days, that would be good. Any more questions?”
Blessedly, there aren’t any and I sign off after goodbyes where I paste a smile on my face. Once the camera’s off, I rub my eyes. They’re sore and gritty from a combination of crying and not sleeping well. I’ve been here in Van’s home going on my fifth day now and he hasn’t spoken a word to me in four. Granted, he’s been on a road trip to Los Angeles the last two days and is coming back tomorrow, but I don’t know the details because he hasn’t shared them with me. My texts go unanswered and the only way I knew he was traveling for games was to look up the actual team schedule online.
He’s so fucking frustrating and I’m running out of ideas. All my attempts to provoke him go unanswered. He’s mastered the ability to ignore and avoid, often staying away from the house until it’s time to go to bed and then leaving first thing in the morning. I’m still sleeping on the couch, just so I can catch a glimpse of him. I cook every night but he refuses to eat my food.
I’m lonely and miserable and about to give up. Last night I went over to Anna and Malik’s house because the isolation is getting to me. I knew I’d have to hear Malik’s disgruntlement over my attempts to get Van turned around, but it was worth it to have some company.
“Jesus, you look like shit, Simone,” he’d said when he opened the door and just before pulling me into him for a hug.
“Feel like it too,” I admitted as I ran my fingers through my hair. It hit on tangles and I wasn’t even sure I’d brushed it after my shower that morning.
Anna was next to hug me as she held Avery on her hip, and then I pulled my niece away from her because kids always make me happy.
But it also made me sad, too, because I’m starting to understand that Van probably isn’t going to be a part of our baby’s life. It’s one of only a million worries I have about being pregnant and the current state of disaster that is our marriage. It’s been weighing on me so heavily that I also broke down last night and told Anna.
It was a spur-of-the-moment decision and I probably wouldn’t have done it had Van at least been engaging me somewhat. But I’m overwhelmed by the solitude and desperation, and I need someone to understand fully what’s going on with me. While I love Malik to the moon and back, I needed a woman on my side.
Malik had gone to put Avery down to sleep and I purged everything to Anna. Her eyes got wider and wider and nearly bugged out when I told her I was pregnant, but God, it felt good to let that secret out. We didn’t have much time to talk about it because Malik would be returning shortly, but she hugged me hard and promised she had my back. I extracted a promise from her not to tell Malik and she had no qualms about it.
“Have you seen a doctor yet to find out how far along you are?” she asked, and I nearly burst into tears.
I admitted that I didn’t want to go until Van could be by my side.
But the likelihood of that happening is looking more remote by the day. Sighing, I push the kitchen chair back from the table and rise. My back is killing me as I’ve been up working since six a.m., nearly three hours in that hard, wooden chair without a break.
I stare longingly at the coffee pot. I’ve had to cut that out since finding out I was pregnant and I miss caffeine like I’d miss air if I were underwater. That’s especially so since I’m functioning on only a few hours of sleep each night.
Maybe I’ll go for a walk. It’s nearly fifty degrees out today, which is practically balmy coming from Vermont where it’s a good fifteen degrees colder today. That should clear cobwebs from my head and the sunshine will do me good.
But honestly, the thought of changing out of my pajamas—long fleece pants and a T-shirt since Van doesn’t even look at me if I’m dressed in skimpy clothes—has me reconsidering. Maybe I’ll try to take a short nap before getting back to work, but I know as soon as I lie down and close my eyes, my brain will spin in constant rumination about my husband.
Indecisive, I stand in the kitchen, trying to decide what to do, but as fate would have it, someone knocks on the door, jolting me with surprise.
I look down at myself. I’m not even wearing a bra under the T-shirt, but it’s Van’s and swamps me. I’m wearing his clothes because that’s the closest I can get to him and the smell brings me comfort.