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I chuckle and shake my head while walking over to sit down beside her. “I didn’t. That’s not who I am, Lily.”
“Who are you then? Because while I have loved spending time with you, and adored the bath and the picnic you prepared today, I’m not entirely sure what we’re doing here. You’re not mad. You’re being too nice to me and it’s kind of screwing with my head. I can’t have you playing Casanova and then everything goes back to the way it was, Ash. I need more. We need to talk.”
It’s what she’s been asking for, and I can’t keep putting this off forever.
Tucking my leg underneath me, I turn to face her on the sofa. Her natural beauty, even after all these years, steals my breath. “I have a couple of things I need to sort out first. I promise you, I want to work everything out between us, but I need some time to do that.”
“Like what? What do you have to sort?” She shoots questions at me, ones I can’t answer truthfully. “You can’t quit your job. I would feel responsible, and you are too talented to throw it all away. I won’t allow you to do that. We need to navigate ourselves first and sort the bigger things later.”
It’s the bigger stuff that’s the problem. “Do you trust me?”
“I do.” She rests her hand on my bent knee.
“Then trust me to do what I need to. Also, I can’t tell you what I don’t know myself yet. Just know that I’m trying.” So fucking hard. “I’m trying to fix what I broke.” I lay my hand on top of hers. “Please know I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. You were right to leave. I think you needed to get out of the house to have space to think. Time to consider what you want. Because you may decide that I’m not the one for you anymore.”
Tilting her head to the side, face crestfallen, her eyes well with tears. “Ash.”
“It’s okay,” I realized last week she may decide to call time on us, ending our marriage completely. If I can’t get my shit together, that might still be a possibility. I rub my thumb over her wedding ring. “I’m sorry. All I do is work, and sleep, well sometimes, I don’t sleep at all some nights. And I’ve been having these chest pains,” I admit. Something I have been hiding from her, and everyone. It feels like a relief to share how I have been feeling.
Obviously worried, she instantly jumps in. “Have you been to the doctors?”
“I’m okay. The doctor thinks it’s being caused by the huge amount of pressure I’m under at work.” The need to win is making me sick. “I’m stressed.”
“Like me,” she says, adding, “My blood tests came back normal. I don’t have anything wrong with my thyroid and I’m not going through early menopause either, like she suspected.”
“That’s great news.” It’s the little slither of hope we needed. She’s okay. Thank Christ for that.
Stress is such a strange thing. After reading the leaflet the doctor gave me, my heart palpitations, my irritability at work, my anger with the team, which can be triggered by the smallest of things, and my impatience all point to stress. And all I do is worry about the outcome of the season. There is no fun or enjoyment in my job anymore, nor is there any in my personal life. The only thing that keeps me anchored is Lily. If I lose her, my stress levels will hit an all-time high. I can’t let that happen.
But even now, I don’t have her; she’s moved into our old apartment.
“We’ve separately been running ourselves into the ground.” I did it because I loved my job and also because it’s expected of me, now I’m questioning if this is what I want. And Lily throws herself into work because I’m not around.
It’s unhealthy.
“If you are making changes, Ash, I need to make some, too. This isn’t only your fault like you said last week. If I ever made you feel like that, I am sorry. But it’s not.”
“It’s time for both of us to make changes.” Or we will kill ourselves working. For what?
She looks down at my fingers that are fiddling with her wedding band. “We need to find us again. How do we do that?”
“Baby steps.”
“Baby steps,” she repeats.
“First, we are going to sit here. With my arm wrapped around your shoulder, and pretend we are on a first date at the movies.” Satisfaction and joy flood her face when I say that. “And we are going to enjoy whatever we decide to watch and just be. Downtime, relax, and stuff our faces with the truck full of snacks I bought this afternoon.”
“I still can’t believe you went shopping for groceries.” She sounds shocked as she laughs at how undomesticated I’ve become. It’s been years since I did that. Paying people to prepare meals for us and have them delivered to the door, I've turned into an entitled, almost forty-year-old workaholic.
I find her amusement enchanting. “I did,” I answer.
“I need proof. Did they have security cameras?”
“If they do, you’ll see me dropping a large carton of milk, then helping the staff to clean it up.” Lily covers her mouth to hide her laughter. I continue, “You’ll also see me signing over thirty autographs and taking selfies with Eagles’ fans in the parking lot.” I froze my nuts off in the process.
“Oh, no.” Lily covers her mouth, trying desperately to hide her amusement.
“It took me over an hour to get just a few things.” I knew there was a reason we had them delivered.
