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“What about you?” she asked, trying to pitch her tone a bit friendlier.
“Well, I don’t particularly like living in a soulless corporate flat,” he replied. “But it is what it is.”
Was it?He’d made the choice to move out, after all.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Nathan,” Sarah said quietly. “I don’t want it to be this way.”
He didn’t reply, merely looked away, which again didn’t feel great.
“What happened?” Sarah asked. “To us, I mean? How did we drift so far apart?” The question felt painful, exposing, and yet she knew she wanted an answer. Sheneededan answer.
“I suppose you have your answer in the fact that you asked that question,” he said, turning back to look at her. “We drifted. In different directions.”
“All right.” She wanted this to be a discussion, not an argument, but it was hard not to feel defensive. “What direction did you drift in?”
He hunched a shoulder as he gazed into his pint. “I don’t know. I don’t feel like I went anywhere, really. More like I just stayed still and let life pass me by.”
Sarah absorbed this for a few seconds. “So, you feel like you’ve been missing out?” she asked, even as she wonderedmissing out on what?
“I suppose.” He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “I don’t know if I can do a whole dissection of what happened right now, Sarah, because I still feel like I’m in the middle of it. I just need some time to sort myself out, figure out what I want.”
“And am I just supposed to wait while you do that?” she asked, hearing the edge in her voice and wishing she could take the question back.
“You can do what you want,” Nathan replied coolly. “If you don’t want to wait, don’t.”
Ouch.
“And what about Mairi and Owen?” Sarah asked, when she trusted her voice to be level. “Are they supposed to wait around, too?”
Nathan shook his head. “I want to see them. Be with them. I just…” He blew out a gusty breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a bad father. I’m not trying to be selfish or difficult, Sarah, it’s just… hard.”
It’s hard for me, too.She bit her lips to keep from saying the words out loud. Whatever Nathan was going through, it was real to him and she knew being angry about it wouldn’t help either of them, or their marriage.
“Nathan…” Sarah drew a deep breath and then continued painfully, “Whatever you’re going through… whatever you have to sort out… I want to come back from this. I want our marriage to work, and I’m willing to do whatever is needed to make that happen. Counseling, couples therapy, whatever you think we need. You’re right, we did drift.Idrifted, in part because I was focused on other things. I think I just took everything for granted—you, the children, our life together. I was so determined to be a success at everything, to seem like a success—”
“I don’t begrudge you any of that, Sarah,” Nathan replied gruffly. “You’re focused. You always have been. That’s a good thing.”
“Maybe,” she allowed, “but… I’m trying to be different. More laidback and accepting—of the kids, of myself.” She paused. “Of you.” She leaned across the table, wanting him to understand and believe her. “I don’t blame you, Nathan. We should have talked before, yes, but that’s as much my fault as yours. If your job is giving you stress, let’s think outside the box about how to handle it. You could quit, try something new—”
“Quit?” He looked at her in surprise, recoiling a little bit at the suggestion. “I don’t want to quit!”
Sarah frowned. “You said you were tired of it—”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
Something about his tone gave Sarah pause, and realization started filtering in slowly, like puzzles pieces falling into place, creating a whole picture that she didn’t want to make sense of. “What did you mean, then?” she asked after a moment.
Nathan didn’t reply.
She asked abruptly, “Will you go to counseling with me?”
“Sarah…”
The puzzle of her husband was almost completed, every damning piece lined up, except this last one. Sarah forced the question through lips that felt cold and numb. “Do you want to stay married to me, Nathan?”
He looked down at his drink. Several seconds ticked by, each one feeling agonizingly endless. In the fireplace, the logs settled in the grate with a scattering of embers and ash. Sarah waited, her hands flat on the table, her heart beating hard.
“I don’t know,” he said at last, and even though she’d been bracing for it, it still sent her reeling back as if he’d punched her.
