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"What the hell are you talking about?" he snarled.
"You treat me like shit!" Veronica spat at him, and as soon as the words were out of her mouth she felt a weight lift off of her shoulders. "You just go to work and expect me to take care of you at home. It's bullshit and it's not an equal marriage and I want it to stop!"
Greg looked angry and his mouth opened, but he didn't speak. She stared back at him, feeling stronger than she had all day.
"You never appreciate anything I do," she went on. "I clean this house every day and you shit all over it! I dedicate my entire life to this house and this marriage and what do I get in return? Being forced to make your breakfast before I'm able to eat my own! Making dinner for you and cleaning up after you! Clean up your messes and putting up with your shit while you walk around like you fucking own the place! Well, you don't own the place, Greg. You just squat here while I take care of it around you. And I'm through with it. I'm done."
Veronica was breathing heavily now, her heart pounding. She felt like she could punch through a brick wall. All of her bottled-up anger and pain were coming out in one fell swoop. She could see Greg's face begin to soften and she hated him that much more for it.
"This marriage needs to change," she told him. "And until it does, I'm going to start living my own life, the way that I want to. And that includes sleeping on my own."
She turned and left the kitchen, leaving Greg where she was. Veronica marched up to the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. She stood quivering, still breathing hard, the adrenaline coursing through her body. She half-expected to hear Greg's footsteps as he came up to the bedroom, ready to fight some more, to reconcile, anything. But he didn't. Her breathing slowed down and she waited, finally hearing him move around downstairs but never actually coming up. Soon the anger went away and she started feeling weak, her muscles shaking but for a different reason now.
She looked around the bedroom, the familiar room that she and Greg had shared every night for the past 13 years. She realized that this would be the first night where they were both in the house and wouldn't be sleeping next to one another. The thought filled her with a combination of loneliness and, oddly enough, excitement. It was as though the air had been replaced for something new and she was just on the verge of taking a breath.
Veronica felt tired. She took off her clothes and climbed into bed, turning out the light and lying face-up, staring at the ceiling. There was some more movement downstairs, but still he never came up to where she was. The sounds eventually stopped, leaving her in silence. She blinked up at the ceiling, wondering what would happen now, what tomorrow mornin
g would be like. Her eyes started to droop, and two minutes later they slipped closed, Veronica falling fast asleep.
Chapter 9
Veronica awoke the next morning to the sounds of metal banging downstairs. She looked beside her and for a moment panicked when she saw that Greg wasn't there. However, the events of the previous night came back to her and she felt her muscles relax. She listened to the noise and realized that it must be Greg making all that racket.
Throwing the covers off of her, she slid out of bed and put on her dressing gown, leaving the room to go downstairs. As she walked down she smelled the unmistakable aroma of bacon frying. She reached the first floor and walked into the kitchen to find Greg, dressed in the clothes he was in the night before, rushing around the kitchen, cooking breakfast. When he saw Veronica stop in the doorway he broke out into a huge, albeit obviously stressed, smile.
"Good morning honey!" he said with joviality. "Sleep well? I hope I didn't wake you."
"No, you didn't," she lied. "Are you making breakfast?"
"Yeah!" he said. "After our conversation last night, I thought I would give it a shot for a change. Coffee?"
"Sure, thanks," she said, heading to the cupboard for a mug.
"Oh no, I'll get it!"Greg said quickly, and Veronica stopped where she was. "You can just sit down and relax, I'll take care of everything."
Veronica nodded and went to sit at the table as Greg grabbed a mug and poured coffee into it, handing it to her. "Uhh ... milk and sugar?" he asked.
"Just sugar," she replied.
"Right, just sugar," he responded, his smile faltering slightly.
He went to grab the sugar while Veronica looked at the stove. There was bacon frying in one pan and eggs being cooked in another. The elements were on too high and the eggs smelled overdone, but she didn't say anything. The toaster popped and two pieces of toast, slightly burnt, came up.
"Here we are," Greg said, putting the sugar on the table beside Veronica's coffee. "Oh, you need a spoon."
He went to the cutlery drawer to grab one as Veronica watched him with in silence. He turned around and put the utensil down beside the sugar.
"There you go," he said, and then, "Oh, the toast!"
He spun toward the toaster and grabbed the toasted bread, almost dropping them as they burned his fingers. He put in two new pieces and pressed them down.
"Greg, what are you doing?" Veronica finally asked.
"Hmm?" Greg replied, his eyebrows raised.
"You never make breakfast," she informed him. "What's going on?"
"Well, like I said, I was thinking about what we talked about last night, and I decided that you were right, that I hardly help out around the house. So, I decided to try to start things off by making breakfast for the two of us."
