Page 14 of Making Time for Us


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“Can we talk?”

“What’s up, babe?” The sincere concern in his eyes makes my stomach drop. “I can tell you’ve been a little off these past couple of days. What’s bothering you?”

Drawing a blank, even though I’ve practiced this conversation in my head a hundred times before, I blurt, “Do you ever feel like something is missing in our marriage?”

He draws back as if I’ve physically slapped him across the face and stares at me saying nothing.

Oh no — this is already going so wrong.

Fumbling over my words, I say, “That came out totally wrong. I love you more than anything in this world, you know that, right?” His face stays stoic, and my heart rate skyrockets. “I just mean, do you ever feel like we have lost some of the spark along the way? You know, with the kids and work and the house…”

He sits up straighter, lips parted. “What are you talking about, and where is this coming from? Are you not happy in our marriage?”

I sit up straighter too and pull my legs under me as I lean closer to him. “No, I am, I’m happy.I promise. I’ve just been thinking lately about how we don’t really have sex that much anymore and when we do, it’s kind of the same stuff. You know?”

“I don’t even know what to say to that.” He shakes his head and silence fills the room as I wait for him to find his words, but he doesn’t.

Flushed cheeks and sweaty palms, I continue to word vomit the wrong things. “I didn’t know if it was because maybe you’ve lost some attraction to me or something else. Or maybe you’re tired. Is that why we don’t spend that much time together? I know we aretogetherall the time, but not focusing on us when we are. Does that make any sense?”

“What do you want me to say, Ellie? You come out of the blue, accusing me of not giving you enough sex or time, and I’m supposed to say what?”

“I don’t know. I just want to know how you feel about it.” I shrug.

“We don’t have sex that much because over the last eight years your priority has been being a mother and I know you’re tired, something I’ve never resented you for onceby the way, and I am not going to pressure you into sex like an asshole.” My stomach bottoms out. “And I didn’t know we weren’t spending enough time together. We’re always together.”

“Yeah, but it’s always doing chores or focusing on the kids. I missus.”

“I don’t know where this is coming from. Sorry what we have isn’t good enough for you? I’m over here thinking everything is okay, andI’mreally happy with our sex and our life. Sorry you’re not…” He stands, his face flushed.

“Marco.” I try to grab his hand, but he pulls it away. “Don’t get mad.”Always the right thing to say when someone is mad.“I was just wondering why you never really try anymore. When we have sex, it’s always kind of the same.”

“My apologies for being tired from work or the kids too. I didn’t realize I wasn’t satisfying you enough.”

“That’s not what I said! You’re twisting my words. I love having sex with you! I’m saying I love it so much that I want to havemore.I’m not trying to upset you here,” I say, willing my rapidly pounding heart and shaking body to calm. “This is going all wrong. I’ve been thinking about myself, and my place since the girls started school, and that got me thinking about what I want for our marriage too and this season of our life together.” I swallow the boulder in my throat as I gear up to drop a harsh truth. “I actually started seeing a therapist a couple of weeks ago, you remember the one Jess saw when she was struggling with infertility, and she’s helped me realize— “

“You’re seeing a therapist? That wasn’t something you thought to share with me? Are you reevaluating ifI’mwhat you need?” The sadness on his face twists my stomach in knots.

“No! NO! That is not what I’m sayingat all. I love you, Marco. I have loved you every day since we were two naive kids who thought we’d always be our top priority. I didn’t start therapybecauseof you and I’m not doubtingus.” Anger starts to rise in me now.How could he not know how much he means to me?“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted to figure out a little more about what I want and need before I talked about it with you. I obviously needed the help because I’mstillscrewing it up.”

Through tight lips, he says, “I’m not upset you started therapy — I’m glad you’re going if you need to — but I am upset that you didn’t think you could tell me. You should have known I’d be supportive.”

He breaks eye contact, and I can feel him withdrawing from me, so I reach out to grab his hand again, but like before, he pulls it away and he stares at the floor.

The pressure in my chest is heavy and I struggle to draw air. I say to the side of his head, “I know now that you would have been supportive. It was wrong not to tell you. I should have told you. I was scared. There’s so much I wanted to say, and I just didn’t know how or even what to say. I’m so clearly nailing it here. I really didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“Yeah, well, it’s a little late for that.” He walks to the kitchen to grab his keys and when he reaches the door, he turns to me and says, “I need some air. I’m going to pick up the kids from school.”

The door slams as he walks out, leaving me alone in the quiet. I look at the clock on the microwave and there’s still an hour until the kids get out of school.

I crumble on the couch and put my hands over my face as the hot tears begin to flow.

I didn’t mean to hurt him.

Panic slices through me as I see his pained face behind my closed eyes and more sobs rack through my body.

What do I do now?

Chapter 6

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