as he sets our plates down and pulls a chair out for me. Reluctantly, I sit.
“Thank you,” he says.
Sitting across from Darrell is strange. “Eat up,” he says and takes in a mouthful of food. Looking over my plate, my fucked up mind starts to spin, and I wonder if he’s trying to kill me with this food. Reaching over, I take his plate and hand him mine. He’s got to have a reason for this sudden change of heart.
He rolls his eyes at me and says, “Really, Abby?”
“What? Yours looked better.”
He shakes his head. “Do you really think that I’d hurt you?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore.”
He begins to eat the eggs off of the plate I gave him and asks, “Do you want to switch coffees too?”
I shake my head, knowing how ridiculous it is of me to paint him in that picture. As hurtful as he can be sometimes, I hope that he’d never do anything to me. But anger can make you do crazy things. Looking into his sober eyes, I wonder if maybe he is really trying.
“I saw your note, that you went out with the girls. Did you have a nice time?”
“Yeah, it was nice to unwind and catch up with them.”
“Good, you deserve that; I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t.”
I don’t respond to his apology. There is so much more that he should be sorry for.
“Does it taste okay?”
I nod in response, barely picking at the eggs, and he sets his fork down. “Abby, I know I haven’t been good to you for quite a while now. I’m very sorry. You deserve more from me, and I should give you that. I don’t know what gets in my head sometimes. The injuries I sustained this season were really hard, which isn’t an excuse, but I just checked out on everything. I don’t remember much of the last year. I’ve just floated on by.”
“You could’ve handled things differently. If you were struggling, then I am who you turn to, not other women.”
“I know.”
“You said and did some really hateful things to me. Things that I don’t know how to forget. For the first time in our marriage, I’m scared of you.”
“I’m sorry, you’ll never know how ashamed of myself I am. I wish I could take all of it back,” he says and reaches over the table for my hand. I let him hold on to it but my stomach churns, not fully trusting him. Looking at our intertwined hands, I can’t help but find myself wishing he was Latch. I wish that it was him holding my hand, trying to make things work between us, not Darrell.
“I’ll do anything to make it better. Just tell me what you want.”
Letting out a sigh as all of his vulgar attacks ring through my head, where do I even start? “I don’t want you to ever lay your hands on me again.”
“I promise I’ll never touch you.”
“Okay, I need you to admit that you’ve cheated on me.”
He leans back in his chair before responding. “Yes, Abby, I have, and it will never happen again.”
“How many women?” I question him.
He holds his breath and his face contorts. “I’m not sure.”
“That many…wow.” I pull my hand away from his, devastated finally hearing it from him. Even though I’ve known all along, I don’t think that I’ve actually come to terms with it. It’s kinda like believing that Latch was an escort – I pushed that away for as long as I could, but last night it all crashed down as the reality of his life shone through. Leaving Darrell at the table, I am heartbroken.
“Abby, please don’t go.”
“What do you want from me, Darrell?”
“I want to make this work. I’ll do anything.”
“Fine, stop drinking.” I know there is no way that he will, especially with us going through issues. It’s his only coping mechanism.
He looks over at his bar, like the decision between me and alcohol is that hard for him. I shake my head and walk away.
“Okay,” he says, catching me by surprise.
I stop dead in my tracks and turn as he walks towards me. “Why now? Why this sudden change of heart?”
He leads me
“Thank you,” he says.
Sitting across from Darrell is strange. “Eat up,” he says and takes in a mouthful of food. Looking over my plate, my fucked up mind starts to spin, and I wonder if he’s trying to kill me with this food. Reaching over, I take his plate and hand him mine. He’s got to have a reason for this sudden change of heart.
He rolls his eyes at me and says, “Really, Abby?”
“What? Yours looked better.”
He shakes his head. “Do you really think that I’d hurt you?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore.”
He begins to eat the eggs off of the plate I gave him and asks, “Do you want to switch coffees too?”
I shake my head, knowing how ridiculous it is of me to paint him in that picture. As hurtful as he can be sometimes, I hope that he’d never do anything to me. But anger can make you do crazy things. Looking into his sober eyes, I wonder if maybe he is really trying.
“I saw your note, that you went out with the girls. Did you have a nice time?”
“Yeah, it was nice to unwind and catch up with them.”
“Good, you deserve that; I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t.”
I don’t respond to his apology. There is so much more that he should be sorry for.
“Does it taste okay?”
I nod in response, barely picking at the eggs, and he sets his fork down. “Abby, I know I haven’t been good to you for quite a while now. I’m very sorry. You deserve more from me, and I should give you that. I don’t know what gets in my head sometimes. The injuries I sustained this season were really hard, which isn’t an excuse, but I just checked out on everything. I don’t remember much of the last year. I’ve just floated on by.”
“You could’ve handled things differently. If you were struggling, then I am who you turn to, not other women.”
“I know.”
“You said and did some really hateful things to me. Things that I don’t know how to forget. For the first time in our marriage, I’m scared of you.”
“I’m sorry, you’ll never know how ashamed of myself I am. I wish I could take all of it back,” he says and reaches over the table for my hand. I let him hold on to it but my stomach churns, not fully trusting him. Looking at our intertwined hands, I can’t help but find myself wishing he was Latch. I wish that it was him holding my hand, trying to make things work between us, not Darrell.
“I’ll do anything to make it better. Just tell me what you want.”
Letting out a sigh as all of his vulgar attacks ring through my head, where do I even start? “I don’t want you to ever lay your hands on me again.”
“I promise I’ll never touch you.”
“Okay, I need you to admit that you’ve cheated on me.”
He leans back in his chair before responding. “Yes, Abby, I have, and it will never happen again.”
“How many women?” I question him.
He holds his breath and his face contorts. “I’m not sure.”
“That many…wow.” I pull my hand away from his, devastated finally hearing it from him. Even though I’ve known all along, I don’t think that I’ve actually come to terms with it. It’s kinda like believing that Latch was an escort – I pushed that away for as long as I could, but last night it all crashed down as the reality of his life shone through. Leaving Darrell at the table, I am heartbroken.
“Abby, please don’t go.”
“What do you want from me, Darrell?”
“I want to make this work. I’ll do anything.”
“Fine, stop drinking.” I know there is no way that he will, especially with us going through issues. It’s his only coping mechanism.
He looks over at his bar, like the decision between me and alcohol is that hard for him. I shake my head and walk away.
“Okay,” he says, catching me by surprise.
I stop dead in my tracks and turn as he walks towards me. “Why now? Why this sudden change of heart?”
He leads me
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