question, the obvious question.
She
prayed he wouldn’t ask what her plans were. She didn’t want to lie to him, but
she couldn’t go to the ballet with him and she couldn’t tell him why not.
“The
whole weekend is sold out. I could try to get tickets for Saturday instead—”
“Oh,
no,” she interrupted, feeling a flare of anxiety. “There’s no need to rearrange
all your plans. Why don’t you just find yourself a gorgeous date to take who
you could suitably impress with the best seats in the place?” Her voice was
teasing, and she really hoped he’d take it that way.
She
assumed Adam dated. She wasn’t actually aware of anyone he dated, and she'd
never really had any interest in knowing details. But he was a virile, very
eligible man, so she never doubted he’d have a line out the door of potential
dates.
She
didn’t like the idea of women he might date. She didn’t like it so much that
she felt that sick churn in her stomach, telling her that things just weren’t
right.
“I
can find someone to take, if you really can’t go.” Adam sounded still confused
and a little distant.
“Yeah.
Why don’t you? Thanks for asking, though.”
“Sure.
Of course.” There was a pause, as if he were again keeping himself from asking
what he wanted to ask. “I’ll let you get back to your morning.”
“Thanks
again for yesterday,” Zoe said, afraid she’d hurt his feelings.
She
didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She just didn’t know what else to do.
“No
problem. Talk to you later.”
When
she hung up, Zoe wondered if she’d messed things up again.
She
should have done better. She should have realized that she was leaning too much
on Adam, using him to replace the companionship she’d lost with Josh.
He
wouldn’t know why she was pulling back now. He might think she was rejecting
him.
Zoe
wanted to redo the phone conversation. She wanted to redo the last three
months.
She
wanted to be friends with Adam without any complications. She wanted to be safe
and comfortable with him again.
Mostly,
she just wanted her husband back.
Six
Zoe stared up at
the auto mechanic with his scraggly beard and greasy ball cap. “You’re kidding
me,” she said, feeling a drop in her gut at the estimate he’d just given her.
“Sorry,
ma’am,” he replied, not looking particularly sorry at all. “That’s what it
comes to. You need to get all this done before we can get you safely on your
way.”
Zoe
stared down at the piece of paper he handed her, on which was listed all of the
repairs that evidently needed to be made to her vehicle. She was fairly
ignorant about cars, so she didn’t recognize half of the words on the page, and
the rest of them blurred together as frustration and discouragement overwhelmed
her.
She
and Logan had left that morning to drive out to visit Nora, one of her college
friends, who lived in a small town a few hours away. She’d been wanting to
catch up with her anyway, and she needed something to do that evening since
she’d told Adam she couldn't attend the ballet because she already had plans.
Zoe
had never liked the enormous, black SUV—it made her feel like she was driving
around a tank or a house. But Josh had picked it out. Josh had loved it. And
she hardly ever drove anyway, so it hadn’t seemed worth the trouble of swapping
it out for a smaller car.
She’d
been less than an hour outside of the city when an indicator light signaled that
her engine was overheating, so she’d stopped at the first town she came to and
pulled into the only full-service gas station.
“It
seems kind of high,” she said. “What exactly is wrong with it?”
Logan
was sitting on her lap, fortunately not screaming or crying. Zoe hated the
cramped, dirty sitting area of the gas station and the strong smell of
gasoline. And she hated that damned huge SUV—particularly since it decided to
break down at the most inconvenient of times. And she hated having to deal with
car
She
prayed he wouldn’t ask what her plans were. She didn’t want to lie to him, but
she couldn’t go to the ballet with him and she couldn’t tell him why not.
“The
whole weekend is sold out. I could try to get tickets for Saturday instead—”
“Oh,
no,” she interrupted, feeling a flare of anxiety. “There’s no need to rearrange
all your plans. Why don’t you just find yourself a gorgeous date to take who
you could suitably impress with the best seats in the place?” Her voice was
teasing, and she really hoped he’d take it that way.
She
assumed Adam dated. She wasn’t actually aware of anyone he dated, and she'd
never really had any interest in knowing details. But he was a virile, very
eligible man, so she never doubted he’d have a line out the door of potential
dates.
She
didn’t like the idea of women he might date. She didn’t like it so much that
she felt that sick churn in her stomach, telling her that things just weren’t
right.
“I
can find someone to take, if you really can’t go.” Adam sounded still confused
and a little distant.
“Yeah.
Why don’t you? Thanks for asking, though.”
“Sure.
Of course.” There was a pause, as if he were again keeping himself from asking
what he wanted to ask. “I’ll let you get back to your morning.”
“Thanks
again for yesterday,” Zoe said, afraid she’d hurt his feelings.
She
didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She just didn’t know what else to do.
“No
problem. Talk to you later.”
When
she hung up, Zoe wondered if she’d messed things up again.
She
should have done better. She should have realized that she was leaning too much
on Adam, using him to replace the companionship she’d lost with Josh.
He
wouldn’t know why she was pulling back now. He might think she was rejecting
him.
Zoe
wanted to redo the phone conversation. She wanted to redo the last three
months.
She
wanted to be friends with Adam without any complications. She wanted to be safe
and comfortable with him again.
Mostly,
she just wanted her husband back.
Six
Zoe stared up at
the auto mechanic with his scraggly beard and greasy ball cap. “You’re kidding
me,” she said, feeling a drop in her gut at the estimate he’d just given her.
“Sorry,
ma’am,” he replied, not looking particularly sorry at all. “That’s what it
comes to. You need to get all this done before we can get you safely on your
way.”
Zoe
stared down at the piece of paper he handed her, on which was listed all of the
repairs that evidently needed to be made to her vehicle. She was fairly
ignorant about cars, so she didn’t recognize half of the words on the page, and
the rest of them blurred together as frustration and discouragement overwhelmed
her.
She
and Logan had left that morning to drive out to visit Nora, one of her college
friends, who lived in a small town a few hours away. She’d been wanting to
catch up with her anyway, and she needed something to do that evening since
she’d told Adam she couldn't attend the ballet because she already had plans.
Zoe
had never liked the enormous, black SUV—it made her feel like she was driving
around a tank or a house. But Josh had picked it out. Josh had loved it. And
she hardly ever drove anyway, so it hadn’t seemed worth the trouble of swapping
it out for a smaller car.
She’d
been less than an hour outside of the city when an indicator light signaled that
her engine was overheating, so she’d stopped at the first town she came to and
pulled into the only full-service gas station.
“It
seems kind of high,” she said. “What exactly is wrong with it?”
Logan
was sitting on her lap, fortunately not screaming or crying. Zoe hated the
cramped, dirty sitting area of the gas station and the strong smell of
gasoline. And she hated that damned huge SUV—particularly since it decided to
break down at the most inconvenient of times. And she hated having to deal with
car
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