I don’t sleep a wink all night. Anthony took himself off to the spare room, leaving me alone and afraid in our giant bed. All night long, the worry played around in my mind as I pictured our future. It hits me around one am that the house we live in may have to go. I grow cold all over as I consider moving out and into a small house in the suburbs somewhere, away from all my friends and to a life I never wanted to lead. I may have to get a job and I worry about what that would mean. I haven’t worked for years ever since I married Anthony and even then, it was only as a runner for the production company he worked for, courtesy of an introduction from my mother.
As I picture my mother’s disapproving face, I want to cry all over again. She will blame me for this somehow. Everything always becomes my fault and my heart starts hammering as I picture the conversation we’ll have. My father will be angry and blame me for choosing to marry a failure because they only approve of success. If they see one shred of weakness, they remove themselves from it as quickly as possible.
Then there are the neighbours. What will they say when they discover I am no longer ‘one of them’?
I’m not a fool and know they will cut me off. Friendships like ours don’t stand tests such as these. If we lose the house, I will lose everything that goes with it and that includes my friends.
My pillow is soaked with my tears by the time the sun rises.
I hear Anthony moving around and quickly head off in search of him, hoping a miracle has occurred in the night and this was only a bad dream.
I find him in the kitchen making his usual coffee, and he nods as I join him. “You ok?”
I fold my arms around me and say in a small voice, “No, I don’t think I am.”
I look to him for support and crave those strong arms to wrap around me and tell me that everything will be ok. I want him to whisper his eternal love for me and tell me that nothing will change between us. I want him to tell me he has a plan to restore our fortune and that everything will be fine and more than anything, I want him to tell me he loves me because I’m not so sure about that anymore.
Instead, he shakes his head and says somewhat angrily, “I need you to draw up a list of your expenditure and we’ll go through it. That country club membership must go, and I’ll need your credit cards.”
I stare at him in disbelief. He’s being so cold, so pragmatic, and so unlike the man I married. It’s as if he’s lost the ability to feel and hasn’t stopped for a moment to consider how this is affecting me.
He looks at me sharply, “What?”
I say nothing and he rolls his eyes. “Go on, say it. I can tell you want to.”
“Say what?”
“That you’re disappointed in me, hate me, anything but the vacant expression you’ve been wearing ever since I told you. Shout and scream, show me some emotion for god’s sake because anything would be better than this.”
His words wound me deeply and I stare at him with all the frustration that built up overnight. “You want me to shout and scream at you? For what? I can’t see what that will achieve. We need to talk this through and search for solutions to the problem, not hold our hands up and accept what others say. For goodness’ sake, Anthony, where’s all the fight gone in you? You were always so full of ideas and suggestions; are you really telling me that you are just going to curl up in a ball somewhere and admit defeat? If so, you’re not the man I married.”
He looks at me angrily and I hold my breath as he snarls, “Shut the fuck up. Don’t you speak to me like that - ever. Don’t you think I’ve already considered everything? This didn’t only happen yesterday, it happened weeks ago and I’ve been trying to work out the solution, so you never even needed to know. I’ve shouldered this burden for a while now because I saw it hurtling towards us like a nuclear missile. Things like this don’t just happen overnight, you dumb bitch. They happen over time and you’ve been so wrapped up in your privileged life you haven’t even noticed anything’s wrong. Well, things are wrong and this is the end of the line, so, do what any good wife would do and don’t question my judgement and do what I tell you.”
He turns away and heads towards his study without a backward glance, leaving me speechless in his wake.
Did he really say those words? That man wasn’t my husband. I don’t recognise him at all because the way he just spoke to me made me believe he had given up on me, too. The hate that flashed in his eyes wasn’t there by chance. Anthony Adams may have lost everything, and it appears that he doesn’t want what’s left either.
* * *
The rest of the day is spent working out where we go from here. Anthony retreats into his study and I start cleaning as if on autopilot. As I work, I worry and nothing that comes to mind brings me comfort.
It must be close to tea time that Anthony ventures out of his study and does what I’ve been aching for him to do since he told me. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, saying gently, “I’m sorry, darling.”
I say nothing and he strokes my hair, whispering, “I took my frustrations out on you and that wasn’t fair. Can you forgive me?”
I nod, although I’m not sure if I do or not. His behaviour has hurt me deeply and made me see a side to him I didn’t like. However, I need him more than ever now, so I cling to him and say softly, “We’ll be fine, darling. We’ll sort it out; we’ll work a way out of this.”
I’m surprised to see a gentle smile on his face as he says, “I already have.”
He laughs at the surprise on my face and says happily, “I’ve been in talks all morning with a few of my contacts. It’s early days but I’m going to report to Castletown studios tomorrow morning. They may have something for me.”
The relief hits me like a tsunami and I collapse against him as the tears fall heavily. He strokes my back and murmurs, “There, there, it will be fine. Leave it with me and I’ll work it out. I shouldn’t have reacted like I did yesterday, but it all got on top of me. We’ll be fine, trust me.”
Leaning down, he kisses my tears away and I forget everything except the fact that I love him so much. Last night was hard because I felt a distance from him that shocked me and wounded my soul. Now, as we kiss, I crave his touch to remind me I’m still loved.
As he removes my clothes, I am stripped bare inside and out and as he pushes me to the ground and enters me roughly, it’s what I deserve. Anthony owns me one hundred per cent and our lovemaking reinforces that. He has always been in charge because I let him. However, he can take me however he wants because only I know the secret I’m keeping. He may call the shots, but I’m calling his future.
As he explodes inside me, I grip him tighter. Yes, Anthony may believe he’s the one in charge, but I’m the one who always gets what she wants. As he collapses on top of me, I experience a flutter of excitement. This is it. Anthony has just unknowingly given me what I want the most, and if we lose everything, I hope to gain something much more valuable. A child.