Page 2 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
"Just a purse?" I stood slowly; sauce-stained paper towels clenched in my fists. "If it were just a purse, then why didn't you just tell her no?"
"You didn't see her face. She was so happy—"
"So, what then ... " The words exploded out of me, what felt like thousands of swallowed frustrations finally breaking free. "So, her happiness—God! When did my happiness stop mattering? When did I—"
"That's not fair—"
"Isn't it? Three anniversaries!" I threw the towels into the trash and slammed the top shut. " My last birthday! You forget so many of the milestones in our lives—the things that are so important to me."
Caden took a step toward me, and I stepped back.
"Do you get that for years you've sent Lauren to pick out my gifts because you can't be bothered? It's always great getting things from my husband that are sent care of his assistant." Sarcasm burned through my words, and I turned away from him.
Facing the sink, I started washing the vegetables for dinner. "The one time--the ONE time--I ask for something specific, you give it to your daughter because she looked happy when she found it?" Fed up, I turned the water off and started pulling things from the bags he'd put on the counter, simultaneously grabbing items from the fridge for dinner.
"She's just a child—"
I looked up. "That's right. And children should have boundaries, not just get whatever they want! They should have parents who teach them the difference between yes and no. Though, that's not really fair here since you didn't even say no—not Macy's fault on this. It's completely yours."
I spun to face him. "Why couldn't you say no? You're too conflict-avoidant to set boundaries with Jessica, afraid to rock the boat and have to deal with things that could—God forbid—take you away from your work or get messy."
"It's because of Macy. I have to think of her when—"
"Yes! And you should always think of her. All I ask is to be remembered too! I'm an afterthought. I'm the person whose gifts you have your assistant purchase. Why do I have to fight to be cared about?" I uncontrollably hiccuped at that last. Damn it. Hold it together, Felicity.
He stood slowly, and I watched his CEO face slide into place--the one he uses for difficult meetings or recalcitrant employees. "You're being dramatic, Felicity. I'll buy you another purse. A better one."
I walked to the other side of the kitchen, putting the island between us. After effectively stowing and pulling out the groceries over and over and fussing around, I realized I'd created a mess in the kitchen—a bit like my marriage, I guess. I looked at him and saw he was still standing in the same spot.
"I can't believe you think this is just about the purse?" I scoffed. "It's about you just not caring. You don't seem to care that you gave away something that was meant especially for me—a milestone gift, if you will. You don't even—you know what? You've never even bothered to figure out what I actually wanted.Instead, I had to tell you." I'm so aggravated that I can't even keep my thoughts focused.
I was back to moving things around aimlessly—slammed the cabinet door and was moving around the kitchen, unable to stop myself at this point. "Then finally I found something that I really wanted. I mean… God! I sent you the details. Didn't that tell you how much it would mean to me? And you thought so little of it. Of me. That you gave it away."
I stopped moving, faced my husband, and felt my head and shoulders just slump. "Caden, don't you understand that it's about being so low on your priority list that a child's whim matters more than your wife's birthday?"
"I told you, she found it and—"
"You don't get it. Or you don't care to get it. Husbands protect their wives' gifts. But you'd rather I be disappointed than have to deal with Macy being sad for a couple of minutes."
"That's not what this is—"
"It is. That's exactly what it is." I was defeated. "Why is it okay that I have to sacrifice? That I have to walk into my own home and see your daughter with my gift. And you didn't even think about how I'd feel. You didn't even think to ask her to put it away until she went home."
His silence was answer enough. He hadn't even considered it.
I turned away, unable to look at him anymore. I could see my reflection in the kitchen window. I looked haggard. My hair askew. Makeup smudged and running from my tears. My slacks from work were splattered with sauce. When had I become this woman? The one who accepted crumbs while everyone else got the whole cake?
"I'll get the purse back," he said finally. "I'll tell Macy I made a mistake."
"Don't bother." I looked at him. Really looked at my husband. "You want to traumatize her by taking back a gift from her daddy? You want to make her think it's somehow my issue that she can't have the gift? Better yet, you want to give me something that you gave someone else? What could possibly be worse now?"
"Then what do you want me to do?"
"It doesn't matter anymore. You can't right this boat, Caden. All I wanted was for you to think of me first. Just this once." I reached into the junk drawer, grabbed a handful of Reese's peanut butter cups, filled my water bottle up, and headed for the stairs, exhaustion settling into my bones. Fuck dinner. Why should I cook tonight after all of this? Chocolate will comfort me tonight—he sure as shit won't be.
"Where are you going?"
"Guest room."
