| |
“Well, I see it worked,” I spoke softly as Erik lies behind me with his arms wrapped around my body. We just made mad passionate love for the second time. I missed him so much, and his body told me he missed me too.
When he came home tonight, I felt almost as if my world had stopped and restarted from his first hello. God, I love this man.
“You see what worked, Court?”
“The pictures I sent you.”
“What pictures?” He looked confused.
“The pictures I sent to your cell last night. You weren’t due back from your trip until tomorrow night, but here you are right now, just like I knew you would be.” I raised my head in his silence and looked over at my husband’s vacant face as he stared back at me.
“Erik? . . . I sent pics to your cell.” Now I was starting to get agitated. I grabbed my phone off the charger next to my side of the bed and quickly retrieved one of the pics I sent him. It was me laying across our perfectly made bed stark-naked. When I handed Erik my phone, he looked at the picture as if it was the first time he’d seen my naked body.
“Now, do you remember?” Before he could answer, I could hear his phone vibrating next to him. I looked away from Erik to peek over at the clock. I’m thinking, should I question him as to why his phone is ringing so late, or should I be more concerned as to why he’s pretending it’s not ringing at all?
I chose door number one. “Erik, who would be calling you this late?”
I’m not the jealous type, more so curious. I kicked myself after I asked him that question because I was setting myself up to hear something I didn’t want to hear, possibly, but I wanted to know. I wanted to know, but I got nothing. Erik just stared at me as if I was speaking a different language.
“Erik, who was that?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
Now I know he didn’t call himself getting an attitude.
“Well, if you looked at your . . .” I was cut off by the buzz of his phone again. “Don’t you think you should get that?” My raised tone didn’t faze him as he just laid there. “Well, since you don’t want to answer it, I will.” When I reached for Erik’s phone, he grabbed me. His tight grip shook me. I didn’t know what to do. What should I do? Yell? Scream for help? Call the police? Call Shaun? Call Mama? Was this going to turn physical? Was this a domestic dispute? My mind started to race as my husband’s grip gripped tighter.
Why is he doing this? Why had he become so angry? Was I out of line for wanting to know who was calling him at this hour? I became frightened. I didn’t know what to do. What could I do? What should I do? I didn’t have any answers, so the tears started. Why am I crying? Why am I letting my weak side come out? Does he think I’m weak? If he does think I’m weak, will he leave me?
Pull it together, Courtney! I tried to coach myself through this, but I didn’t know where to start. My heart was pounding, hoping Erik would let me go. Then my heart started pounding even harder, hoping he wouldn’t. I didn’t want him to leave me. This was our first fight since we’ve been together, and I was becoming unglued. He better say something fast, or I was going to lose it. I had already lost it. I was crying uncontrollably. Nonstop. This wasn’t just a few tears here and there. No, no. As Oprah would say, this was an ugly cry. I wish Oprah were on right now. Maybe she could tell me what to do. Perhaps tell me what I did wrong.
“Erik, please, you’re hurting me.”
“Why are you crying?”
We started speaking at the same time.
He asked again, “Courtney, why are you crying?”
“You’re . . . you’re hurting me, Erik.” My whimpering voice was just above a whisper.
He released me right before he apologized. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”
I dried the water from my chin as he stared into my eyes. Oh my God, I’m sure I look a mess. Hopefully, he doesn’t think so.
Just as I was pulling myself together, his phone started ringing again. Who was trying so hard to get in contact with him?
“Erik, who is that?” I wasn’t crying anymore. My voice became sharp. I needed answers, and I needed them now.
“You know what Courtney, here . . .” He hit the red ignore button on his screen before he held the power button to turn the phone off. “Are you happy now? The phone is off, problem solved!” He got up and headed for the bathroom.
“Erik, you still didn’t answer my question! Who would be calling you back to back at this hour?”
He turned to me. “Courtney, I’m a doctor, okay. I get calls about patients at all hours of the night; you know that. I didn’t answer the call because I was trying to have some alone time with you. We haven’t seen each other in almost a week, so whoever was trying to reach me could wait!”
Ugh, now I feel so bad. I caused this huge scene over nothing. Erik was just trying to spend some time with me, and I went and ruined it. Now, I have to make this right before this foolish fight goes any further. Would an I’m sorry be enough? I’ll try it.
“I’m sorry, Erik. I really am. You know I’m not like that.” I repeated it. “I’m sorry . . .” It wasn’t enough. I could tell he was still upset with me. “Why don’t you come back to bed?” He didn’t respond. Instead, he turned and headed for the bathroom. “Erik?”
He stopped in his tracks, but he never turned toward me. “Courtney, . . . I need to take a shower.”
“Why are you in such a rush to take a shower?”
When he finally faced me, I wish he hadn’t. His eyes pierced right through me. Thank God looks couldn’t kill; if they could, Shaun would be planning me a fashionable, fabulous, flawless funeral.
“Courtney, I’m taking a shower because I’m dirty. We made love twice tonight, so I need to rinse some of the sex off my body before I go to bed. Is that okay with you?”
I didn’t reply. If I say anything, I’m sure I would burst out into tears again, and I didn’t want that to happen, so I just let him go. I stayed glued to the spot on the bed until I heard the shower start.
I was relieved our first argument was over. I was ready to close my eyes, pretend none of this happened, and just go to sleep. And that’s exactly what I planned to do, but before I could lie my head down on the pillow, there was a burst of light that started shining inside our bedroom. It was Erik’s phone. I thought he turned it off, but obviously, he didn’t; he just switched it to silent.
I looked at the bathroom door, then back down to the phone. I thought, who was trying so hard to get in touch with him and why?
When I grabbed the phone, I noticed he had a new voicemail message waiting to be heard. Without delay, I tapped the envelope ready to find out who was trying so hard to get in contact with my husband, but what do you know . . . LOCKED!