When she walked away, I wanted to go after her. I really did. I couldn’t holler for her and risk waking the kids, but I was already out of my chair and in the recliner. I couldn’t chase after her and plead with her not to leave me even though that’s exactly what I wanted to do.
Peggy should have a husband who will pull her close and be there for her. Before now, I couldn’t keep my hands off her. But since the bombing, I’ve convinced myself that I can’t be the one to do it. That she deserves a man that is whole.
She put a voice to the way I’m feeling. She’s right: I haven’t been able to let her in. I haven’t been there for her like she’s been here for me. This whole year has all been one-sided. She’s given me everything and I’ve offered her nothing. Not even a hug when she’s asked for one. It’s no wonder she thinks I’m cheating on her.
But fuck, as soon as she said the word separated it’s like she’s asking me to swallow a vat of acid. I can’t do it. There’s no way I can let her go. I can’t.
I’m panicked and shaky, so it takes me a long time to get into my chair, but finally I make it. I try to think of what I can do to change her mind as the hours of the night continue to tick by. I wheel myself across the house, down the hallway and to our bedroom. I stare at my wife, who is even beautiful when she sleeps. I ask myself the serious questions, and there’s only one answer. I can’t lose her. Even though I don’t deserve her, I can’t be without her.
I sit and watch her all night. My cock is hard between my legs just thinking about sliding into bed next to her and pressing her body against mine. When the first dawn of light starts to peek through the curtains, I can’t wait any longer.
“Morning, Peggy.”
My voice is husky and soft, and she opens her eyes and stares back at me. For the first time in forever, I look at her. I look in her eyes and instead of pity I see fear and sadness. I hate that I’m the reason she has that look in her eye.
She sits up in the bed and braces herself against the headboard. The sheet has fallen and she’s wearing my army T-shirt. She knows how much I love seeing her sleep in my shirts. Well, she used to anyway.
“I’m going to try and do better. I don’t want to lose you.”
She bursts out sobbing, her head going to her hands. At a loss, because I can’t pull her into my arms, I put my hand on her back and rub. “Honey, please. I can’t stand to see you like this. Please quit crying.”
She shakes her head. “I thought you were in here to talk about the separation.”
“Look at me, Peggy.”
She lifts her head slowly and looks at me. “You deserve better than me. I know you do. But I can’t let you go. I’m sorry.”
She slides to the edge of the bed so she’s facing me. “I don’t want you to let me go, Jeremy. I want you to fight for us. No matter what happens, I love you. I’ll always love you.”
She reaches for me and hugs me, her arms tight around my shoulders. I stiffen, but I don’t push her away. My hand slides up her back, and I hold her to me for the first time in a year. I soak in the feeling, not realizing just how much I missed her touch and her affection.
When she pulls away, she’s staring at me, and I know she’s wanting me to kiss her. I can see it in her eyes. I palm her face and run my thumb along her jaw. “I promise. I’m going to do better.”
She doesn’t believe me. I can see it on her face clear as day, but she nods. “I know.”
5
Peggy
That morning he held me in his arms, I’d hoped it was a turning point. I really did. And I wanted to believe that he was going to be different, but so far, he’s already gone back to the way he was before. Normally, I try to draw him out, but instead I’ve sort of withdrawn too.
We’re both at home, and the kids are at school. He’s in the living room, and I’ve been gardening all morning and just came in for a drink of water.
He rolls into the kitchen. “I’m about to go to my therapy appointment. Do you want to come with me?”
I freeze, the cold glass of water held to my lips. I take a small sip. “If you’re okay with it, I’d like to come.”