Page 75 of I Almost Do

He frowns, gives a brief nod, then says "I still love you too."

Jamesloseshisownfather the next day. He texts me in the middle of the afternoon.

James: I'll be headed out of town for a few days.

Me: This is unexpected. Everything ok?

James: My father died. I have to go make the arrangements.

Me: I'm so sorry. Are you okay?

James: Of course.

James hasn't seen his father since he was seven years old. He has a handful of half-siblings through his father whom I've never met. Some of them,Jameshas never met.

The fact that James is the only one willing to make the man's funeral arrangements says volumes about who he was. Though James rarely speaks of him, and never in more than monosyllabic grunts, it's clear the man was an asshole.

Me: I'll go with you.

James: No need.

No needto have your wife there to support you at your father's funeral.

Me: I want to go. I want to be there for you. I can hold your hand, and you can wiggle your earring if you need me to run defense.

James: Lol. Thanks. But I'm fine. I'm not broken up over his passing. He was a bastard.

Me: That almost makes it worse. It means you have to grieve the father he should have been. Let me come hold your hand.

James: He’s not getting a funeral. I'm only going to check on my half-siblings. And to deal with paperwork. I'm taking Rebecca to handle that part. So I really don't need any help.

I take a second to absorb that body blow. His father died, and instead of leaning on me, he's taking Rebecca.

Oh, I know he's not cheating with her. James is nothing if not loyal. He looks at Rebecca like a piece of office equipment. To him, he may as well have said, "I'm taking my laptop." But reminding myself of that doesn't fix the pit of confused feelings churning inside me.

Me: I want to be there for you

James: I don't need that. I just need to know you're safe at home.

I don't text back, and after a few moments, he texts again.

James: Still love you.

I sigh and text back.

Me: Still love you.

He comes home after a few days looking drawn and tired. When he walks in the door, I wrap my arms around him and hold on. He puts his face in my hair and breathes, grounding himself in me.

Then he pushes away, smiles, and says, "Did your text say chicken pot pie for dinner?"

And so it continues. Days and weeks of it. James smiling tightly. James working constantly. James avoiding my eyes. He kisses me when I kiss him. But following my surgery, we've never gone back to the intimacy we established before it.

In early August, I decide to try a new tactic. But I plan to butter him up with Italian food first. When I present him with lasagna for dinner, his eyes practically roll back in his head with pleasure at his first bite. "That's it. Carol's fired. It's all Clarissa, all the time."

I laugh, but I feel a hum of pride inside.

Now for something completely different."What would you say about the idea of a vacation?" I ask. He needs it. James is nothing if not stressed out right now. And time away together without the distraction of work is a luxury we've never had.

---