Kenna walked into Rae’s house, said, “What did I miss?”
“A lot,” Rae said. “You better sit down.”
They filled her in, and all eyes were on me again.
“He’s been sleeping in the spare room.”
I hated to admit it, but there was no point denying it now.
“For how long?” Sasha asked.
“Three months.”
Sasha’s brow rose. “What? Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” Rae sighed. “Come on, Callie. Let your guard down. Talk to us.”
“No matter what’s happened, we’ll always support you,” Sasha added.
“I’m telling the truth. I really don’t know.” Neither seemed convinced. “I promise. If I did, I’d tell you.”
“Let’s try this another way,” Sasha said. “What do you know? Think about it. He didn’t just wake up one day and say to himself, ‘I think I’ll start sleeping in another room.’ There had to have been some kind of trigger.”
My mind wandered back to an event a few months earlier.
“We had a fight one night after dinner,” I said. “It was around the time this all started.”
“What about?” Sasha asked.
“It was Josh’s weekly poker night. During dinner, he kept looking at the clock, checking the time, fidgeting like he wanted to get out of there. I asked him what the rush was, even though I knew the answer. I guess I just wanted him to admit how much he’d rather be with his buddies than at home with me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said they were starting early, and the guys were waiting. I flipped, said I didn’t want him to go. I was tired of always being alone. He seemed shocked, like he didn’t believe that was what I really wanted. He said I only wanted him to stay because I wanted my way. I guess part of me did, but another part really meant what I said. I felt like we hadn’t been connecting lately, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”
“What did you say?” Sasha asked.
“I asked him why things seemed different lately. He looked at the floor, acted disappointed, and the next night he was sleeping in the spare bedroom. I figured he was just mad, giving me the silent treatment, but then he just kept staying in there, night after night.”
“Are you saying you two haven’t had sex in—”
“Three months. Yep.”
“You do know that’s not normal, right?”
“Of course I know.”
Kenna, who’d remained quiet up to now, stood, grabbed a bottle of red wine from the kitchen, popped it open, brought it out to the coffee table, and set it down. She filled my glass to the brim and handed it to me with a nod and a grin like she knew I needed every last drop. And although I didn’t indulge in wine very often, it didn’t stop me from swallowing it down like I’d been deprived of liquid for days. I finished, handed the glass back to Kenna, and was given an immediate refill.
“While Josh stayed in the other room, did you two still talk, or do anything together?” Sasha asked.
“We had dinner together sometimes, pretended everything was okay, but at the end of the evening, he’d still just say goodnight and walk away.”
“And you never thought you should talk to him about what was going on?”
“Of course I did. Every single day. A few times, I even crept over to his door, but I never knocked. I felt like an idiot standing there, not knowing what I’d say if he caught me.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I thought if I didn’t push, eventually he’d tell me what was bothering him. It was stupid. I’m stupid, and now I’ve lost him.”
“So that’s it,” Sasha said. “You’re just going to give up then.”
“He doesn’t want me. What else can I do?”
“What you can do depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you’re a fighter or a quitter.”
“I ... I don’t—”
“Do you love him?” Kenna asked.
“I don’t love what’s been going on lately. I don’t love how he’s been treating me.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Of course I love him. I’ve always loved him.”
“Figure out what the hell his problem is then,” Kenna said. “Fight for him, Callie. Don’t let your marriage end. Not like this. Not when there’s a chance you could still save it.”
I didn’t know if it was the wine kicking in, or logic talking, or both, but I did something I hadn’t done in a long time—I got angry—with me, with him, with all of it. Earlier I’d let him go without the slightest opposition. Could my friends be right? Had he wanted me to ask him to stay? Was he waiting for me to come to him—to make an effort? I had to find out.