Since he’s glaring at me like he’s expecting a response, I paste on a smile and reach for a non-confrontational answer. “Good for you…?”
“No. You’re going to apologize for treating me like garbage!” His hands rest on his hips, and he’s doing his best to tower over me, to physically intimidate me.
Why is he doing this?I wonder, but it doesn’t take long to figure out. After all, I was married to the man.
He wants me to admit that I’m partially to blame for our relationship falling apart. He wants to use whatever comes out of my mouth to lever some sort of reconciliation, no matter how hopeless. Since he can’t confront me at work or at home, he’s trying the deli I like, where I’m not protected by Dan or Griffin.
Emotional exhaustion and annoyance surge first, followed by shame over my terrible judgment. “I thought you were here to apologize.”
“No, you have to apologize first. Because this was the overarching issue in our marriage.”
“Maybe for you. Believe me, there were other issues.”
Now people are staring and taking out their phones. Ugh. I don’t need another embarrassing video shared all over social media.
“I’ve moved on,” I continue. “I have a boyfriend. You should move on, too. Get on a dating app and go find someone who’ll apologize for everything you don’t like.”
He shoots his hand out, trying to grab me. I pull back just in time.
“Touch me and I’m calling the police!” I shout, jumping to my feet. My heart beats in my throat. I hate physical confrontations, and I doubly hate it that Todd continues to force them upon me.
Ellie stands and moves around so she’s standing next to me.
“I can’t touch my wife?”
“Ex-wife! And no, you cannot! I’d rather sleep with a giant spider.”
His face is blotchy red and yellow. “I should’ve known better than to follow Linda’s advice.”
I shake my head. If this is what Linda meant by keeping Todd under control, Griffin was right to scoff. Todd grinds his teeth, his hands clenched tight. If he weren’t sober, or if we didn’t have so many witnesses, he might just grab me, like he did in New Orleans.
“We’ll chat when you’re calmer,” Todd says, and stalks out.
“Holy shit. Are you okay?” Ellie says. “What is his deal?”
“He thinks he can make me go back to him.” I cross my arms and gaze out the window. Todd stomps to his car and drives off.
It’s been about three weeks since his defeat against the crabapple tree, and Todd won’t accept it’s over. Maybe I really should start looking into getting a restraining order. And a dog—a big one with huge teeth that growls menacingly…but only at my ex-husband.