Page 36 of The Wife
I heard him stomp off. A few seconds later I heard a door slam. He was out of the house. It helped. It helped when he wasn’t shouting at me any anymore. I started to sob, these horrible gut-wrenching deep sobs. A sound I had never heard myself make before.
Eventually I fell back down on to my bed. Eventually I cried myself out. Eventually I fell asleep.
When I woke up my throat was raw, my mouth was dry, and my eyes were nearly swollen shut.
But I knew what I had to do.
The first thing was pack.
* * *
Jake
Iwaiteduntil as late as I could before going back to the house. I walked up the stairs of the porch and inside. It was quiet. Dark. I made my way to the kitchen. The scales were still on the floor, the disks scattered about.
I picked them up, glad to see the scales weren’t broken. I very decidedly put ten of the disks on the left scale.
Because on a scale of one to ten regarding how shitty of a day this was, it was definitely a ten.
I didn’t know what I was going to say to her. How to begin to apologize. For all of it. What I did, what I said.
But I was a man. At least I hoped so. Although I couldn’t imagine Sam or Ernie being too proud of me in this moment. Men owned up to their shit. With a sick feeling in my gut, I made my way upstairs. It was late. She was probably in bed. It occurred to me that the front door wasn’t locked again, but I was not going to bring that up.
“Ellie,” I said as I knocked on her door. “I know it’s late, but we have to talk.”
Nothing.
I knocked louder. “Okay, how about you need to let me grovel at your feet. I’m sorry. So damn sorry.”
Still nothing. I reached for the handle, expecting it to be locked, but it wasn’t, although this time the door was closed. I opened it expecting to see her sleeping, except she wasn’t there at all. It hadn’t even occurred to me when I pulled up that her car wasn’t under the portico. I was too focused on finding the words I was going to say.
I could see her alarm clock from here.
It was after ten.
She could have gone out. She would have been upset. She probably would have wanted to talk to someone. Tell them what an asshole I was.
This time she would be right.
Except usually she was home by ten. My day started at six, but hers didn’t start much later than that.
By ten thirty I was getting nervous.
By eleven I was done waiting. I sat on the couch in the living room, the TV on in the background, and grabbed my phone. Thinking she might not want to talk to me I tried texting.
Hey where are u?
Nothing.
Look, I know u r mad, but it’s late and I’m worried.
I waited for the three dots and clenched my jaw when nothing showed.
I called. It rang five times and then her voice mail clicked in.
Hi this is Ellie. Three reasons I might not be answering, I’m not near my phone, the reception where I am is garbage, or I just don’t want to talk to you right now. Leave a message.
“Ellie, no joke. It’s eleven. I don’t know where you are. Call or text if you don’t want to talk to me. But I need to know you’re safe.”
