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Yet another sunrise and sunset without each other.
“Lily,” he shouts, seeking me out. Eventually, he finds me sitting outside on the wicker dining set I spent hours selecting. Pointless now when I come to think of it. There’s only been a handful of times I’ve sat out here.
“What the hell are you doing out here? It’s freezing.” He shudders, sitting on the seat across from me.
“I didn’t want to sit in the house by myself.” I’m done being alone. So done.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
He’s always sorry. I’m always sorry. We are forever apologizing to each for being busy.
“It’s fine.” It’s not.
“Are you flying somewhere tonight? I didn’t see anything in the calendar?” He swipes at the screen of his phone, double checking he’s not wrong about the suitcases lined up in the entryway.
“No,” I answer flatly. “I’m moving out.”
His head snaps up.
Silence.
Paralyzed, he does nothing but stare at me.
He knows. He knew it would come to this.
I fill him in on today’s events. “I went to the doctors today. I’m not depressed or blue or down or going crazy.” I thought I was at one point. “She thinks I’m burnt out.”
I’ve worked myself into a state of exhaustion.
He remains silent.
I was hoping Ash could come with me when I went to my appointment today, but yet again, he couldn’t make it. Of course, it wasn’t his fault, but something to do with a media interview being unable to be rescheduled.
My voice rises in frustration. It echoes around the vast expanse of our beautifully manicured and quite frankly pretentious backyard. “The doctor doesn’t think there is anything wrong with me other than my body is stressed. The doctor suggested that I may be going through an early menopause or there could be something wrong with my thyroid.” The two have similar side effects. Both outcomes aren’t exactly sexy, are they?
“I had blood tests today.” I’ll know exactly what is wrong with me in twenty-four hours.
I finish my hot chocolate, ignoring the scorching liquid burning my tongue, and place the mug on the table in front of me. “We know this isn’t working anymore, Ash, and I don’t think I will ever be able to give you the family we hoped to have one day.” I let out a resigned sigh. “Something I think I accepted a very long time ago anyway.” A sharp pain stabs at my heart because I haven’t accepted it. “I make unfair demands on you that you can’t deliver on. I’m not like Candy and Bree, who put up and shut up and simply wait for their husbands to come home whenever the NHL allows them. I want more. I need more.”
“You deserve more.” Rising to his feet, his haunted eyes hit mine. “I made a promise to you that I would never let anything come between us.”
And yet, hockey does.
“You are never here, Ash. I might as well be single.”
Too shocked to say anything, his gaze burns with pain, his jaw twitching, his hurt eyes glistening as we take every breath together.
I move my legs out from under me and place them on the ground. “We can’t keep pretending that this is what we both want anymore. I think we need some time and space apart.” I can’t think straight in this house.
“Don’t do this, Lily.” His voice breaking under the weight of it all; cracking like our marriage. A tear falls down his face and mine fall too.
When I go to speak, my chest hurts, my heart feeling as if it’s being ripped from my chest and I hiccup from trying not to cry, but fail and do anyway. “Did you not hear what I just said? I can’t give you a family. I can’t be the woman you want me to be. I’m not a stay-at-home mom. I haven’t been to a game in God knows how long. I’m a shitty wife, unlike Bree and Candy, who go to most of the home games.” Perhaps I should have tried harder, although where the hell would I slot anymore into my days? “Have you seen our calendar? We have four days where we are both free over the next two months. That’s not a marriage, Ash, and you know it.”
“Don’t leave me,” he sputters, moving to me he fails to hold it together. “Please, Lily.” Pain etched into his face, I can’t look at him as we fall apart. The magic that made us who we were together is fading away as tears slide down our faces; the plans and hopes we had for a future, the ones that connected us, are no longer enough to keep us together.
I step back and hold my hand up, instructing him to stay where he is. “We live separate lives. Our lifestyles don’t match anymore. From my destination weddings to your away games with the team, and all of your media appearances. I see you on the team’s social feed, Ash. I see the glitz and glamor. The younger girls.” I sound mean and jealous, spiteful even.
I feel old. I feel like I’ve lost my sparkle. While those puck bunnies are young with bright futures ahead of them. And fertile. I hate those girls. Britney, who always hung around when we first started dating, went on to become a member of their marketing team, and without fail, she’s always hanging about like a rotten smell. Two nights ago, she was pictured with some of the team and of course, she stood to the side of Ash, her arm around his back while Ash had his arms in the air cheering. I don’t think he realizes how clever she is. She’s just waiting to step into my heels.
