Page 142
Story: Now and Forever
“Listen, dear. Whether I stay or go, we’ll still be friends, OK?” He nods, and, with pain in my heart, I change the subject. “Would you like to play cards?”
The boy agrees, and I swallow my tears and play with him while I think about what he said. Does Eric want me to leave?
After dinner, Eric comes back and goes straight to his nephew’s room, but I refrain from going in. For hours, I lie back in the living room armchair and watch TV until I can’t do it any longer and go outside with Susto and Calamar. I walk around the neighborhood and take longer than I should, hoping Eric will come looking for me or call my cell. But he doesn’t, and when I get back, Simona tells me the boss has already gone to sleep.
I look at my watch. Eleven thirty.
Saddened because Eric went to bed before I returned, I walk into the house. After giving the pets some water, I cautiously walk up the staircase. I peek into Flyn’s room. The boy’s sleeping. I give him a kiss on the forehead and head to our room. Walking in, I look at the bed.
The darkness doesn’t let me see Eric clearly, but I know the bulge I can vaguely make out is him. In silence, I take my clothes off and get into bed. I want to embrace him, but, when I get close, he turns over.
His scorn hurts me, but I’m determined to talk to him.
“Eric, I’m sorry, darling. Please forgive me.”
I know he’s awake. I know it. Not moving, he finally responds, “You’re forgiven. Go to sleep. It’s late.”
With a broken heart, I curl up and, not touching him, try to fall asleep. I turn over a thousand times and finally succeed.
37
I’m alone in bed the next morning, which doesn’t surprise me, but when I go down to the kitchen and Simona tells me the boss has gone to work, I sigh with indignation.
I spend the day with Flyn as best I can. The little boy is irascible. His arm hurts, and his typical good mood with me is nonexistent.
Desperate for a break, I sit down with Simona to watchEmerald Madness.
Eric doesn’t come home for lunch, and when he gets back from the office late in the evening, he greets me with a nod and goes to see his nephew. He eats dinner with him, and, at bedtime, he does the same thing as the night before. He turns over and doesn’t talk to me.
I put up with this for four days. He doesn’t speak to me. He doesn’t look at me. And on Thursday, he surprises me when he comes into my room.
“We need to talk,” he blurts out.
That doesn’t sound good, but I agree.
He tells me to step into his office; he’s going to see his nephew first. I do as he asks, and I wait for him for more than half an hour. He’s provoking me. When he finally comes down to the office, my nerves are frayed. He sits down at his desk, looks at me as if he hasn’t seen me in days, and leans back in his armchair.
“Talk to me.”
I stare at him.
“You want me to talk to you?”
“Yes, talk to me. I know you; I know you must have a lot to say.”
Just like that, I explode. “How can you be so cold? It’s Thursday, and you haven’t spoken to me since Saturday. Oh my God! I’m going crazy. Are you never going to talk to me again? Are you just going to torture me? To nail me to a cross and see how I bleed out in front of you? Cold, that’s what you are. You have no sense of humor. If I’m nice, you think I’m flirting. What world are we living in? How can you be such ... such ... an asshole?” I shout. “I’m so sick of it! At times like this, I don’t know what you and I are doing together. We’re fire and ice, and I’m tired of trying to keep you from consuming me with your goddamned coldness.”
He doesn’t respond.
“Your sister Hannah died, and you’re taking care of her son. Do you think she would approve of what you’re doing with him?” Eric gasps, but I don’t slow down. “I didn’t know her, but, based on what I do know about her, I’m sure she would have taught Flyn how to do all the things you’re keeping away from him. Like your sister said the other night, kids learn. They fall down, but they get back up. When are you going to get back up?”
“What are you saying?” he asks, astonished.
“I’m saying you should stop worrying about things that aren’t happening. I’m saying you should let other people live their lives and understand that not everyone likes the same things. I’m saying you should accept that Flyn is a kid and has to learn a hundred things that ...”
“Enough!”
“Eric, don’t you miss me? Don’t you want me around?”
The boy agrees, and I swallow my tears and play with him while I think about what he said. Does Eric want me to leave?
After dinner, Eric comes back and goes straight to his nephew’s room, but I refrain from going in. For hours, I lie back in the living room armchair and watch TV until I can’t do it any longer and go outside with Susto and Calamar. I walk around the neighborhood and take longer than I should, hoping Eric will come looking for me or call my cell. But he doesn’t, and when I get back, Simona tells me the boss has already gone to sleep.
I look at my watch. Eleven thirty.
Saddened because Eric went to bed before I returned, I walk into the house. After giving the pets some water, I cautiously walk up the staircase. I peek into Flyn’s room. The boy’s sleeping. I give him a kiss on the forehead and head to our room. Walking in, I look at the bed.
The darkness doesn’t let me see Eric clearly, but I know the bulge I can vaguely make out is him. In silence, I take my clothes off and get into bed. I want to embrace him, but, when I get close, he turns over.
His scorn hurts me, but I’m determined to talk to him.
“Eric, I’m sorry, darling. Please forgive me.”
I know he’s awake. I know it. Not moving, he finally responds, “You’re forgiven. Go to sleep. It’s late.”
With a broken heart, I curl up and, not touching him, try to fall asleep. I turn over a thousand times and finally succeed.
37
I’m alone in bed the next morning, which doesn’t surprise me, but when I go down to the kitchen and Simona tells me the boss has gone to work, I sigh with indignation.
I spend the day with Flyn as best I can. The little boy is irascible. His arm hurts, and his typical good mood with me is nonexistent.
Desperate for a break, I sit down with Simona to watchEmerald Madness.
Eric doesn’t come home for lunch, and when he gets back from the office late in the evening, he greets me with a nod and goes to see his nephew. He eats dinner with him, and, at bedtime, he does the same thing as the night before. He turns over and doesn’t talk to me.
I put up with this for four days. He doesn’t speak to me. He doesn’t look at me. And on Thursday, he surprises me when he comes into my room.
“We need to talk,” he blurts out.
That doesn’t sound good, but I agree.
He tells me to step into his office; he’s going to see his nephew first. I do as he asks, and I wait for him for more than half an hour. He’s provoking me. When he finally comes down to the office, my nerves are frayed. He sits down at his desk, looks at me as if he hasn’t seen me in days, and leans back in his armchair.
“Talk to me.”
I stare at him.
“You want me to talk to you?”
“Yes, talk to me. I know you; I know you must have a lot to say.”
Just like that, I explode. “How can you be so cold? It’s Thursday, and you haven’t spoken to me since Saturday. Oh my God! I’m going crazy. Are you never going to talk to me again? Are you just going to torture me? To nail me to a cross and see how I bleed out in front of you? Cold, that’s what you are. You have no sense of humor. If I’m nice, you think I’m flirting. What world are we living in? How can you be such ... such ... an asshole?” I shout. “I’m so sick of it! At times like this, I don’t know what you and I are doing together. We’re fire and ice, and I’m tired of trying to keep you from consuming me with your goddamned coldness.”
He doesn’t respond.
“Your sister Hannah died, and you’re taking care of her son. Do you think she would approve of what you’re doing with him?” Eric gasps, but I don’t slow down. “I didn’t know her, but, based on what I do know about her, I’m sure she would have taught Flyn how to do all the things you’re keeping away from him. Like your sister said the other night, kids learn. They fall down, but they get back up. When are you going to get back up?”
“What are you saying?” he asks, astonished.
“I’m saying you should stop worrying about things that aren’t happening. I’m saying you should let other people live their lives and understand that not everyone likes the same things. I’m saying you should accept that Flyn is a kid and has to learn a hundred things that ...”
“Enough!”
“Eric, don’t you miss me? Don’t you want me around?”
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