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“I can’t keep going on this–”

“Is this because of the other night? I thought we talked about this. Damn, if you need me to apologize to make it right then I’m sorry. I am. I didn’t thank you because I didn’t think I needed to–”

“The awards are just part of it, Heath.”

I look up at the ceiling, blinking my eyes because I know any moment I’m going to start to cry and I need to get through this before I break down. I rub my trembling hands down the sheets that are covering my legs. “We need to make a change, Heath. We can’t keep living like this. We can’t keep thinking our marriage is going to turn out differently. We can’t expect anything to change if we don’t do anything about it–”

“What are you talking about, Whit?”

I turn my head to face him. “Something’s going on here, Heath, and it’s not good. I feel it. We’re off. We’ve been off for a long time, and I can’t keep doing it. I know I’m not the only one who feels it. I know you feel it too.”

“You can’t tell me what I feel. You don’t know,” he defends.

“Are you happy?”

“Fuck, I thought I was, but maybe I was wrong.”

I’m taken aback by his words. “How have you been happy?”

“We have a good life, Whit. We have three kids and I’m damn proud of them. I work my ass off to provide for you and the kids–”

“I provide just as much, but I’m not talking about our life. I’m talking about you and me as a couple. That’s what this is about. It has nothing to do with the kids or the house or our careers. It has everything to do with the fact that we are strangers living under the same roof.”

He gets off the bed. “That’s such bullshit, and you know it.”

I turn to face him. “Really? Your award is case in point. I had no clue you were being considered.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. I don’t see why you’re so hung up on it. Christ, we’ve been together so long, I didn’t think I had to tell you every aspect of my day. I didn’t think you cared–”

“I’m tired of not feeling like you love me!” I shout.

“Jesus, it’s like you think all that shit you read in those goddamn romance novels is real. That shit isn’t real, Whitney. I don’t have to declare my love for my wife of twenty plus years every single day.”

“When was the last time you told me you loved me?”

“For Christ’s sake…” He pulls at his hair in frustration.

“I’m an educated, intelligent woman. I know what’s real and what’s not. I know what I read and what I actually live. And I certainly know when someone is going through the motions, and that’s what we’ve been doing for years. I can’t anymore.”

He throws his head back and lets out a growl of frustration. “I don’t know what the fuck you want from me. Nothing I do is ever good enough.”

“You know that’s not true. You’ve always been enough for me, Heath. But I’m not sure I’m enough for you anymore–”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Whit.”

“We’ve lost each other, Heath. Somewhere along the way, we lost what we used to have, and I’m tired of wondering when it happened. For years I never questioned us. We were solid, but then I woke up and we weren’t. I’m not sure how to get us back because believe me, I want us back so bad. I love you with everything I have, but I’m afraid that maybe that’s no longer enough. I feel like I’m drowning trying to fight against the constant waves of disappointment. Every little thing you do, the things you forget, or don’t have time for, are starting to build up and I’m starting to resent you. And I don’t want that. God, I don’t want that.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. The only one that I’ve wanted to share my life with–”

I stand and grab my shorts throwing them on, one foot at a time. “Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe the words aren’t working anymore because your actions contradict them,” I huff as I drag the shorts up my legs. “That’s what I’m talking about. Our tactics need to change.”

“What do you mean, our tactics?”

“I think we need to reevaluate our marriage,” I rasp, causing his eyes to widen in shock. “I don’t want to lose us, but I’m afraid that we already have, but we’re both afraid to admit it.” I take another deep breath. “I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep thinking that you’d rather be anywhere else but here with us, with me.” I swipe the tears from my cheeks. “I’ve looked at some places to rent–”

“What the fuck do you mean you’ve looked at places? You’re being serious? You want to leave?”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to, but damn it, something has to change. We’re living on repeat, and I can’t keep doing it.”

“You can’t keep doing it?” he scoffs. “I’m sorry your life with me isn’t meeting all your expectations. I’m sorry I’m not what you want.”

The emotion in his voice nearly breaks me. This is the emotion, the feelings that I’ve wanted to see from him for so long. Tears run down my cheeks as I watch him bend over and grab his clothes from the floor.

“That’s not what I’m saying…”

At that moment, I second guess my decision. I think maybe I’m being irrational. Maybe Jenna’s tendency for drama is rubbing off on me. I take a step towards him, but when he straightens his body and looks at me, his face is without emotion.

“You want to leave, you need your space to figure whatever the fuck it is you’re looking for, then so be it. I’m not going to fight you on this, Whit. For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted you to be happy. I’m just sorry that you think you’re not happy with me.”

A sob breaks from my chest.

He pulls the door open to our bedroom, still in his boxers with his clothes gripped in his fist. “I don’t know where we lost our way, Whit,” he shakes his head, “but I can’t make you believe the things I’ve been telling you. That’s up to you. I just hope you don’t take too long to figure it out.”

The slamming of the door makes me jump. My body shaking with emotion, my eyes scan our room, but nothing has changed. Hs presence is the only thing that’s lacking, but for some reason, the room feels entirely too empty.

And it’s all because of me.