Page 80 of Marriage and the Midlife Crisis

“And my voice doesn’t sound like that,” I pouted.

He leaned forward and booped my nose. “I love it when you wrinkle your nose like that. You do it when you concentrate, too.”

When I rolled my eyes, he laughed and assured me, “Your voice doesn’t sound like that at all. It’s beautiful, just like the rest of you.”

The kitchen timer went off, and I jumped up and headed to the kitchen before he could see the blush on my cheeks. I was flustered and didn’t know how to respond.

He followed me into the kitchen and snatched the oven mitts out of my hands. “I’ll get the lasagna out. I don’t want you to burn yourself. Why don’t you grab the salads, and we can start on those while the lasagna cools.”

I set the salad bowls on the table and got the bottle of dressing out of the refrigerator, then poured an iced tea for each of us.

Ryan joined me, and once we finished our salads, he got up to plate our lasagna. Aside from giving me several compliments on the food, Ryan didn’t say much and seemed lost in thought as we ate. I tried to initiate conversation several times but finally gave up after only getting nods or single syllable replies. He didn’t seem angry, but he wasn’t exactly happy either.

Once we were done eating, he stood without a word and began to collect the empty plates, but I reached out and put a hand on his arm.

“Is everything all right? You’ve gotten awfully quiet all of a sudden.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, carrying the plates to the sink. I followed him and reached for his arm again.

“I feel anxious because it seems as if something is bothering you. I feel as if you’re shutting me out for some reason, and I feel confused by that.”

Ryan dropped his head and sighed, then led me back to the table. We both sat down, and he flashed me a crooked smile.

“So that’s how those statements are supposed to be used, huh?” His attempt at lightening the mood fell flat, and he sighed.

“Several times in the last week or so when I’ve given you a compliment, I’ve noticed that you ignore it or change the subject or even seem embarrassed by it. I just assumed that you were uncomfortable because we’ve been…estranged since Vegas, but it hit me earlier.”

He reached for both of my hands and clasped them in his as he eyed me carefully. “I haven’t complimented you in a long time, not like I used to, and definitely not like I should have, and it seems as if you aren’t comfortable accepting compliments from me now. It’s as if you don’t believe me. Am I wrong?”

I looked away and lowered my head slightly, but he reached up to cup my chin, forcing me to meet his steady gaze.

“I’ve made you so unused to compliments from me, that you don’t know how to accept them anymore. You really don’t believe me”

He wasn’t asking questions. He was stating facts, and I couldn’t dispute them.

“I think it’s more that it was part of the pattern you developed. You didn’t stop complimenting me completely. You just reserved them for when you were wanting to pacify me, either because we’d been arguing or because you wanted to have sex,” I said. “They didn’t feel sincere anymore. It seemed as if compliments were used to shut me up, or they were just something to tick off on some kind of a seduction checklist. Compliments, check. Dinner date, check. Sex, check.”

He started to say something, then stopped and his mouth flattened to a thin line, as if holding back his words.

“I don’t think that’s what you’re doing now. I can see the difference,” I rushed to assure him. “I just…I get in my head when you say those things now, and by the time I push those negative thoughts out, the moment’s passed and it just seems awkward to respond then.”

He cupped my face in his hands then and refused to let me look away again.

“I have no excuse for treating you that way. It wasn’t something I was consciously doing, but that doesn’t change the fact that I was doing it, and I’m sorry for every single, fucking time it happened. I need you to believe that even though I lost my goddamned mind and every ounce of common sense for a while, I always loved you, I just stopped showing it. I changed, but my love for you never did.”

He used his thumb to wipe the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes and leaned forward to kiss my forehead, then sat back and stared into my eyes.

“When I give you a compliment you now, it’s because I want to acknowledge what a smart, sexy, incredible woman you are. I want you to know that I see you, and that I appreciate you. I want you to know how I feel, and I’ll use my words and my actions to show you that every single day.”

I gave him a tremulous smile and swallowed hard around the lump in my throat.

“Thank you. Thank you for saying that. Thank you for meaning it. And thank you for the lovely compliments you’ve given me recently.”

“I’ve noticed something else,” he said quietly. “Each time I’ve told you I love you, you don’t respond, and I want you to know that I understand if you’re not ready to say it back. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but I also don’t want to stop saying it, because I did that for far too long. I don’t want a day to go by without you hearing those words from me, but I know I need to earn your love. I don’t want you to feel pressured to say it until you truly mean it.”

There was no holding back my tears at that point, and Ryan stood and pulled me into his arms. He rested his chin on the top of my head as I buried my face in his chest and sobbed. When I got my emotions in check, I pulled back and swiped my fingers under my eyes, then turned and grabbed a napkin from the tray on the counter.

I dried my tears and Ryan reached for the box of cannoli and handed it to me. “I think we need a break for a while, so you take these and go get comfortable on the couch. I’ll make us some coffee and maybe we can snuggle for a while before you go.”