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“And your period is due in two weeks?”
He knew my cycle better than I did. “Yes. I’ll tell you when I get it.”
“Or if you don’t.”
“Yes.”
“I hate this.”
“I do, too.” But I’d hate myself more if I continued in this relationship with a hope he’d change. A hope that someday he’d love me the way he loved Sarah.
“I— God, Jules.” His voice cracked and then, on a long sigh, he said, “Call me later?”
“Okay. Bye, Mark.”
“Bye.”
Hanging up the phone, I wiped the tears and glanced over at my precious son watching cartoons. I prayed I was doing the right thing by deciding to leave, not only for me but also for him.
