Page 162 of The Havenport Collection

Maggie

I was wiping down the countertops, desperate to get out of my work clothes and into my sweats.

It had been the longest of long days. One of our nurses had given her notice, and I was scrambling to figure out scheduling now that cold and flu season was approaching.

I wasn’t just a nurse practitioner. I was a partner at Havenport Family Medicine, and thus, the management of the business fell to me most days.

Staffing, ordering supplies, fighting with insurance companies over reimbursement, and working shifts in the urgent care clinic, in addition to my hours at the practice.

I loved serving my community, and keeping it healthy was something I took great pride in, but I knew I needed to slow down.

My families needs always came first, so most days I was burning the candle at both ends.

Unfortunately, the kids had been back in school for two weeks, and the homework was piling up, especially for Ava. I didn’t remember sixth grade being this rigorous, and my perfectionist daughter was struggling to keep up.

So I did what I always did. Made dinner from scratch and helped the kids with their homework while simultaneously picking up the house, doing two loads of laundry, and paying bills online.

I took pride in my superior multitasking skills, but I could only be pulled in so many directions. So I was thrilled when I finally got them to bed. My sweats and a big cup of tea were waiting for me.

The garage door opened as I was rinsing the dishcloth in the sink, which was a nice surprise.

It was only ten. Josh was a doctor at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston and worked long hours in the emergency room.

Lately, he had been working more and more, taking extra shifts, volunteering for additional responsibilities, and spending less and less time at home.

He’d always been ambitious, and it was one of the things I found so attractive about him, but in recent years, he had become obsessed with the next promotion, the next achievement.

He paid less and less attention to the kids and me while he climbed the ladder at the hospital, taking on extra shifts, volunteering for committees, and traveling for additional training.

It was so difficult some days. I wasn’t ungrateful. And I was damn proud of all he had accomplished. But I missed my husband and I wanted my kids to know their father.

It was a sore spot in our relationship, and I wasn’t in the mood to fight with him tonight. So I resolved to sneak up to bed and avoid him altogether.

I was halfway up the stairs when he burst through the door. “Maggie,” he called. “Get down here. I have fantastic news.”

In the kitchen, he dropped his keys, phone, and wallet onto the counter and kicked his shoes in the direction of the door, where they landed in the middle of my freshly cleaned floor.

“I’m a finalist for the XYZ Corp fellowship. I found out today.” He pumped his fist and looked at me expectantly.

I shook my head. “Wait. XYZ, the pharmaceutical company?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“I’ve been thinking about making the jump to the industry for a while now, and this fellowship is a prestigious one. I would be an executive in the company. I’d lead their medical team and have a huge impact on the industry.”

“Hold on. I’m confused. You do clinical research here. MGH is a teaching hospital, and you’re already leading clinical trials.”

“I wouldn’t be doing research for them. I’d be an executive, helping shape the commercial medical policy.”

“So it’s not research or development? You just want to be a Big Pharma executive and sell overpriced drugs to a sick and underinsured population?”

“Jesus, Maggie, can’t you be happy for me this one time? This is huge. The money is insane, and I could write my ticket from there.”

“You want to stop practicing medicine?” What on earth was he going on about? Being a doctor had been Josh’s dream since he was a child. He loved it, even though it took a lot out of him.

“I don’t know. I want to make a shit ton of money and—”

“Wait,” I said, interrupting him. “Josh, you’re a fucking doctor at the second-best hospital in the United States, and I run my own medical practice. We have plenty of money.”

“But not this kind of money, Maggie.”

“And you’re going to give up your career, give up providing a valuable service to vulnerable people in order to do that?”

He ran his hands through his hair, clearly annoyed with me. Normally I would change the subject and retreat, eager to avoid any unpleasantness. But I couldn’t retreat from this. I didn’t want to avoid. I had a lot to say and needed to get it out.

“And wasn’t XYZ indicted for contributing to the opioid crisis? Didn’t a whole bunch of executives get fired for unethical stuff?”

“Why can’t you be happy for me?” he asked, his tone haughty. “A change of scenery is what I need, and I’ve always wanted to live in New York.”

“Wait.” I held up a hand. “New York? This job is in New York?” How could he even consider that? Our family was here. Our kids had lived in Havenport their entire lives, and my practice was here. He knew I could never leave my mother and sister, especially after what we had been through.

He nodded. “Yes.”

I shook my head, probably doing a terrible job of hiding my disgust. Where was the man I married? My partner? “I’m just trying to understand why you want to throw away all your principles for a paycheck.”

“I’m trying to support my family.”

I laughed. Actually laughed. I was full-on losing it. “You want to support your family? Drive your kids to school and learn their teachers’ names. Show up to their games and sit down to dinner with them a few nights a week. You want to support me? Parent your kids and wash your own fucking socks.”

“Now you’re being hysterical.” His condescending tone tipped me right over the edge.

“You know what? I am. Because I’ve been repressing it all for years. I’ve taken your shit and everyone else’s, and I’ve just kept moving. Every fucking day. But I’m done. I’m not moving my family to New York so you can chase a paycheck.”

He held a hand up. “You don’t have to move. It’s a two-year position. I can fly back on weekends, and then I’ll look for something closer.”

My mind reeled. “So that’s what this is about? You want to get away from us? You think moving away from your family will fix things?”

“No, I’m not saying that. But I’m in a rut and I’m trying to find solutions.”

“So instead of coming home to your wife and working through the issues, your solution is to move to another state and make more money?”

“I haven’t even gotten the job yet.” He tugged at his hair, agitated. “I’m just a finalist.”

I took a deep breath, trying to collect myself, but I was filled with so much rage I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming at him and waking up our kids.

“I can’t believe you didn’t even talk to me about any of this,” I said through gritted teeth.

“We never talk,” he said with an arrogant shrug.

“Because you’re never home,” I spat back, taking a step forward.

He moved in too, so our bodies were only inches apart. “And you don’t talk to me, Maggie. You only ever talk at me. So there’s no point in trying.”

We stood glaring, chests heaving. I wanted to slap him and then kiss him and then slap him again. What the fuck was going on? My marriage was blowing up in my face, and there was nothing I could do about it.

“Maggie,” he murmured. “I’m unhappy. I’ve been unhappy for a long time. And unlike you, I’m trying to do something to fix it.”

That stung. He wasn’t wrong, but it still hurt.

“You’re right,” I replied. “I would have chosen to be miserable forever.” I wasn’t proud of it, but I knew myself.

We had been dancing around this exact conflict for years.

I busied myself with work and my kids to distract from the growing distance between us.

“I want things to be different.”

“Me too. But moving away and giving up your dreams—dreams I sacrificed for, by the way—is not the answer. I think you need to take a good long look at your priorities,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

The desire to punch him had subsided. His devastated face made me want to hug him instead. But I couldn’t. I had to stay strong.

“I think it’s best I don’t stay here for a bit.” He hung his head for a long moment before giving me a searching look. “I’m really confused and upset about your lack of support.”

I nodded, because what could I say to that? Part of me wanted to throw heavy objects at him in hopes that a concussion would make him see sense. But a bigger part of me wanted him out of my house. He barely lived here anyway, so wouldn’t it be easier?

“I’ll go to my dad’s and come over tomorrow to grab some stuff. I can’t be here right now.”

Josh went upstairs and came back down with a backpack and his phone charger, then got in his car and drove away. I watched the headlights disappear down the street in shock. What had just happened? Had I just lost my husband? And why wasn’t I more upset?

But as I tried to wrap my mind around what had happened, it hit me that I’d been gradually losing Josh for years. We had grown further and further apart with each month that passed. And now he was truly gone.