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“I was thinking of looking for freelance work so I can work around Bentley, plus maybe enroll him in daycare once or twice a week so he can make friends and learn to play with other kids.”
“Daycare? We have a wonderful nanny.”
“We do, but Bentley needs to be with other children. One or two days will be good for his development.”
Benedict rubs his face, and I know I shouldn’t push him further, but I continue the conversation since we’re already on the topic.
“Maybe, when things settle, we can work out a custody arrangement.” I choose my words carefully, aware this is like walking into a minefield. “I don’t want a fight, Benedict. Not when it comes to our son. You can be angry at me, but Bentley deserves to have us both in his life. He shouldn’t have to miss out on anything because we’re no longer married.”
“I don’t want a fight either, Jessa. I’m tired, but how do you expect me to react when you’ve been having an affair behind my back?” He raises his voice, prompting another argument between us. “This is humiliating.”
Averting my eyes to the bed, I dip my chin while trying to process his question. This is so much more than just Andy. Our marriage wasn’t built with equality from the beginning. The expectations placed upon me didn’t align with my own beliefs. Rosemarie allowed me to marry into this family, thinking I’d follow my husband’s lead with no questions asked.
But in the end, it didn’t work, my resentment grew, and once the seed was planted, there was no stopping the spread of its roots.
“It was never supposed to happen that way.”
“But let me guess?” he questions, pinning his gaze on me. “You’re in love with him?”
“Benedict,” I mumble. “It’s been a long day. Let’s both get some rest, and we can talk tomorrow.”
After Benedict leaves the room, I climb into bed and turn the light off. Twisting onto my side, I stare out the window to a full moon. Funerals are exhausting, from the planning to the unfamiliar emotions which come out when you least expect it. I should be tired, but my eyes refuse to close, needing so much to connect with Andy. It’s been close to a month since I saw him last, and each day is becoming harder.
I grab my phone off the nightstand to send him a text.
Me:Are you awake?
The screen remains blank until finally, I see the bubble appear.
Andy:Always.
Me:The funeral was held today. It was weird. I’m sad, but I despised her.
Andy:I guess it’s still the loss of someone. I’m sure there is some good in her.
I quickly dial his number, not even stopping to breathe.
“Are we doing this again? You calling me mid-text?”
“There was no good in her,” I tell him, eager to get it off my chest. “On my wedding day, I heard her say, she’ll have to do for now.”
“Mothers can be overprotective of their sons.”
“When Bentley was born, she asked the doctor if it was possible to take some sort of medication or treatment to get rid of his small curls.”
Andy clears his throat. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”
“Exactly.”
“Jessa, what’s really bothering you about this?”
“I just miss you, that’s all,” I whisper.
“Look, I need to get some sleep. Try to get some sleep.”
Andy hangs up the phone, without an ‘I miss you too’ or an ‘I love you.’ The missing sentiment begins to play on my mind. What if he’s fallen out of love with me because I asked him for space. Worst yet, what if he’s found someone else?
The vicious thoughts swirl around like a hurricane threatening landfall.
