Present Day
Brian's View
After that, the funeral had happened. That seemed to me the hardest part. Seeing this little coffin go into the ground with a life inside of it that never got to experience anything. I had tried to support Angela as best as I could physically. I had never seen her cry so hard before in all the years that I had known her. There was a pain inside of her that had never been tapped before and it was unleashed like a violent hurricane. She couldn’t control her body and she nearly collapsed several times. I tried to stay strong for the sake of Angela and for the sake of everyone else, but I broke down too.
We had both agreed to wait to see what the sex of the baby was until it was born. When the baby was removed from Angela, of course it was clearly revealed. It was a baby girl. Her name would have been Isabelle, after Angela’s great grandmother.
Isabelle, my baby.
Knowing that my child was in a wooden box inside of the ground seemed to cement the entire ordeal for me. It made it real. It was after that moment that Angela and I began to drift apart. To me, her heart and her life seemed to have died with Isabelle and nothing that I could have done could change anything.
The months following were terrible. Angela lost her job and I had to pull extra hours at the office. We spent less time together as a result and when we did see each other we didn’t talk much. Angela cried daily and though time seemed to start to heal my heart, it seemed to have no affect on her. She was stuck in a place that she couldn’t get out of and nothing I said or did helped. We tried therapy, but it didn’t work, I tried trips to Europe and to Hawaii to get her mind off things, but that didn’t work either.
We started fighting over little things that we never would have fought over before. We were both stressed and pushed to both our limits and though I know it wasn’t really either of our faults, I deep down blamed her. She seemed to have given up, not only on me, but on her life. She was downcast, sad, and lifeless constantly, and she was beginning to bring me down. This wasn’t the woman that I fell in love with. This wasn’t the woman I married and because of that, I grew bitter.
Everyday became torture. One particular moment still stays with me, because it was the first time I knew that we weren’t okay. It was the first time I knew that things weren’t going to get better.
6 Months Ago
I looked up from my food at Angela across from me at the table. We sat in silence. All small conversation seemed awkward now and we tended to shy away from that. I watched as she avoided eye contact with me, chewing slowly.
I licked my lips and set my fork down. I hated this silence. I hated this awkwardness. I cleared my throat and asked, “How was your day honey?”
She shrugged, no emotional change on her face.
“Do anything fun?” I asked, trying to push for some sort of conversation.
She shook her head, “Not really, just laundry.”
I nodded, feeling a little defeated. I took a few more bites and still looked at her.
“This is great Angie,” I stated. She looked up at me, “What is?”
I motioned at the food and said, “Dinner.”
She smiled slightly at me, “Thanks.”
I couldn’t help but smile slightly back. She didn’t smile often, so when she did, I took it all in, thinking that it may never happen again.
After a few more minutes of silence, she got up and went to the sink. She dumped her extra food in the trash and began washing dishes. I sighed. We used to wait to do dishes until we were both done. We used to talk for a long time before we even attempted at cleaning up, but now, it’s automatic for her. She goes on without me.
She washed them in silence as I continued to finish my dinner. Suddenly, she slammed one of the dishes in the sink, shattering it. I jumped, startled. I looked up finding her bracing herself on the counter, her head down, her breathing steady. Soap suds covered her forearms. I got up slowly and walked up behind her. I gently rested my hand on her lower back, but she pulled away from me. I was taken aback by that action.
“Angela…”
“I don’t want to talk Brian,” she said flatly, grabbing a towel and quickly drying her hands.
“But-“
“I’ll clean this up later,” she said, and then she walked past me and into the living room. I looked after her dumbfounded. I followed her rapidly, “Angela, stop.”
I reached out and gently grabbed her arm. She once again pulled away from me. Her eyes startled me. They were so full of sadness.
“I’m fine. I’m tired, and I just want to sleep.”
I looked at her sadly for a few moments, finally nodding slowly. I said softly, “Alright, goodnight honey.”
She turned away and started walking up the stairs.
“I love you,” I said. And for the first time since we’ve known each other, she didn’t say it back.
Present Day
Watching her walk away from me like that without acknowledging what I had said to her was unsettling and it hurt me deeply. I knew that we were both upset over Isabelle but that was the first time that I was actually worried about us and our marriage. Our famous arguments began after that day, and they never seemed to stop.
She tried to deter our arguments by attempting to hide her crying, but it never worked. I could hear her cry softly while she washed dishes after dinner or when she took a shower in the morning. I could hear her at night or down in the living room. It made me incredibly sad, but I slowly stopped trying to comfort her. I just stopped. There was only so much that I could do and it seemed that I was wasting time and energy on it. She never responded and she never listened. It’s like she didn’t need me anymore and I began to resent it.
We had stopped having sex, and lord knows we were always passionate about that. We would attempt but she’d start crying in the middle of it or look far off and bored even, where I’d have to stop. She used to apologize, but after awhile she stopped even that. We’d just roll over to our separate sides of the bed and go to sleep, unsatisfied.
Her kisses became lifeless and we became less affectionate with each other period. Each day we grew further apart. There was no longer any communication. We no longer tried.
All of these factors put a major strain on our relationship. We were a couple that we no longer recognized. We weren’t who we used to be. We were two people madly in love with each other, but unable to support one another in the way that we needed supporting. It wasn’t out of not understanding, it was out of exhaustion and bitterness at the cards dealt to us.
And then one night about a year later, the wide array of emotions that had been building up from day one exploded, and our fairytale romance had crumbled into ash.
