Page 75 of Counting Backwards

Ah. Now I saw things more clearly. Vance didn’t want me working too much when the job was stressful or challenging, but if I could be a cog in a wheel, accepting a paycheck to work on cases that didn’t matter to me at all—that, he thought, made good sense.

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off.

“That’s what we decided. That’s what you said you wanted.”

I didn’t know what I wanted exactly, but I certainly wanted enough agency to find out.

The waiter was back at the table asking if we planned to order dessert.

Yuval declined, then Vance rattled off the items he and I would share. Honey cake, vanilla ice cream, and berries.

After the server walked away, Vance turned back to me expectantly, like he was waiting for me to agree with what he’d said.

As I met his gaze, a window shade seemed to lift, and I could finally see through the glass behind it. Vance had once represented everything I thought I wanted, but looking at his face over the glowing candle, I finally understood, with stark clarity, that we no longer fit. I simply wasn’t the person he wanted me to be. Not anymore.

“I’ll talk to Andrew tomorrow,” I told Vance, then turned toward Yuval. “For now, I want to hear about the trip you guys are planning. Dalia told me there’s a babymoon in the works?”

Vance turned to listen to Yuval with an easy smile. Probably because he thought he’d won. As always. Why wouldn’t he assume I’d agree to maintain the status quo when, for so long, keeping safe and steady had been my primary goal? Except somewhere over the past several months, I had changed, even though I might nothave noticed it right away. It was time for my choices to change along with me.

When we got home from dinner, we settled onto the sectional sofa and Vance picked up the remote for the TV.

“Wait,” I interrupted him. “I want to talk.”

“What’s up?” he asked, pulling his phone from his pocket and glancing at it before placing it on his lap.

“I’m not even sure where to start,” I said, struggling to believe I was about to take such a leap. “I think...” I paused, taking a deep breath, then started again. “I think this isn’t working for me.”

“What isn’t?” he asked, glancing at his phone again.

“Us. Us being married to each other.”

“What are you talking about?” He looked back at me, his eyes narrowing.

“I don’t think we’re working as a couple.” I hated having to spell it out. “We need to make a change. Maybe not be together.”

“What do you mean ‘not be together’?” He made quotes with his fingers in the air. “What, like, get divorced?” He laughed, like the idea was ridiculous.

“I don’t know,” I said, forcing myself to be completely honest. “Maybe? I mean, that’s where my mind is going. So yeah, thatiswhat I mean. A divorce.”

“No, you don’t.” His tone was still light, like we were simply misunderstanding each other. “What are you even talking about? Is this because of what I said about you going back to Dillney? Fine, don’t go back.”

“No,” I said, frustrated that he wasn’t taking me seriously, even during what was possibly the most serious conversation of our entire relationship. “You and I, we don’t want the same things, Vance. And we haven’t for a while.”

“What are you even talking about?” he said again, except now he was beginning to sound angry. “What? Don’t we both want the baby? Jessa, we’re making a family. Why would you say this now? It’s all you’ve ever wanted. I’m getting over your family history. I’m getting over all of it and just trying to forget it already.”

“But I’m not, Vance. I’m not getting over it because it’s a part of who I am. I need to acknowledge that and live a life that makes me proud. This dynamic between us...” I paused, trying to come up with the right description of how I felt. I finally settled on the simplest explanation. “I just need different things now.”

“Yeah, but...” He motioned toward my stomach. His mouth kept moving, but no words came out, like he was still trying to decide if I was being serious. “What are you trying to get out of this conversation? You want me to be more supportive about Hydeford? To listen better? What?”

“Vance.” I sighed, determined to make my point. “It’s none of that. Or maybe it’s all of it.” I reached for his hand, but he pulled away from me. “I’m always going to care about you, and you’re right. We are having a baby together. We will still raise the baby together. We just won’t live with each other anymore.”

His eyes hardened, as if he was finally hearing me, and my breath hitched. I thought of my entire in-law family, especially Jiyana and the boys, and my palms began to sweat. But I knew I was doing the right thing, so I pushed myself forward.

“Or if you don’t want to be in this child’s life, I will raise it on my own. Either way, Vance, I can’t stay married to you. I need to stand on my own two feet.”

Epilogue

Eighteen months later