One Day You'll Be Mine(38)

“I love you, Jordan, okay? And I love your daddy too. Daddy and mommy are just not getting along right now, and everything will be okay. Mommy’s just taking a little space from Daddy so she can stop fighting with him so much. I’m not going to leave you. I promise. You have my phone number, and you can always call me when I’m with your auntie. Okay?”

He didn’t stop crying, but he nodded his head. I stroked his dark brown hair and inhaled his scent as I held him. He gripped me so hard I thought I would lose circulation. I couldn’t help but let several tears fall, no doubt adding to the scene we were causing at the pizza parlor, simply from this conversation.

***

That night, after tucking Jordan into bed, I continued packing. I started to pack lightly, starting with books, cosmetics, and things that wouldn’t be missed around the house. I didn’t want to alert Hollis or Jordan to anything until I had truly made up my mind and spoken to them first.

I decided not to fly out to Dallas; instead I would drive. It would be a two-day trip, but in those 48 hours alone, I’d be able to just be alone and really mellow out.

I didn’t know what laid ahead of me; I just knew that I couldn’t survive another night of sleeping alone, cold and confused, because the man I married seemed indifferent to my existence. Not once had he come forward to speak to me. Not once has he attempted to apologize. Not once has he shown any remorse, regret, or any resemblance of interest in my well-being since that fateful afternoon.

Sad to say, even the manstress attempted to stop by one evening. When he saw the hateful look in my eyes, he immediately cowered, babbling his apologies. He held yet another beautiful bouquet of flowers, yellow and orange roses and lilies.

“I didn’t mean for things to explode how they –”

“Save it. You’ve won!” I hissed. “What do you need to talk to me for? You’re in love with him, right? You say he’ll be faithful to you? That he won’t cheat on you? That you can’t help how you feel? Well guess what? I’m done. He’s all yours! Fucking have at it!” I slammed the door in his face before I could respond. He could shove that bouquet, probably purchased by Hollis, up his ass for all I cared.

I had until Sunday to pack. I planned to get all the nonessentials in the car by Saturday morning, then do a final load of laundry so the house was clean, and I had as many clothes as possible when I left. I didn’t intend to pack my entire life in my car, but I just wasn’t sure what to expect when I announced I was leaving.

Hollis walked in the house after midnight. I was in the bedroom, still packing when he walked in, the scent of his cologne trailing heavily behind him.

“What’s this?” He gestured toward the boxes I’d stacked on top of each other, on my side of the bed.

“What does it look like?” I didn’t bother breaking down the self-explanatory.

“Oh, you’re leaving?” He spoke in an amused tone, as if he were tickled by my actions.

“If that’s what it looks like.” I had run out of words.

“You don’t have any family,” he chortled. “Stop acting dramatic and go to bed.” He mumbled as he unbuttoned his uniform. I couldn’t hear everything he was saying, but none of it was respectful.

I dropped the items I was packing on their box and crossed my arms. “You know what Hollis? I’m sick of this. You haven’t been nice to me very lately. You’ve changed. I don’t know what’s gotten into you or what you’re doing, but you’ve made it clear you don’t give a damn about me. So yes, I’m leaving. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, or when I’m coming back, but you’ve made it clear you want me to leave you the hell alone, so I’m doing exactly that.”

He looked at me, carefully, as if he were calculating whether or not to respond to my bold statements. We’d had our share of arguments in our twenty years together, but not once did I ever truly get up and leave. I may have threatened to do so, but never went through with it. This time, I didn’t talk. I didn’t try to waste anymore breath on a dead situation. I simply packed, and continued packing.

“You are a piece of work, you know that?” He shook his head. “We haven’t had sex for months. You know I’m busy. I tell you all the time that I am. Then you go creating these crazy stories about me sleeping around, and causing scenes in front of our friends. I haven’t been with any other women!”

“Because you’ve been with other men!” I roared, interrupting his bullshit. Forgetting my son was asleep in his room, I continued. “You’ve been with other men, and I know because they tell me everything – including where your birthmark is and your love of foot massages! And you think I’m losing my mind over nothing? Are you fucking kidding me right now? One thing you’re not going to do is gaslight me with your psychotic bullshit. Or slap me around like some punching bag, or pretend I’m crazy because you’re acting out! I’m packing my shit, and Jordan and I are leaving!”