Whatever It Takes (13 page)

“Pop was so sad about Nana he actually died of a broken heart.  I think it’s actually sweet in a way.  Is that crazy?”

“It isn’t crazy,” Diane answered her with a smile.  “You’re right, it is romantic.  He loved her so much that he just couldn’t live without her.  It’s touching.”

“It’s just as well,” I added, wanting to steer the conversation away from where it was.  “He would have been miserable without her to take care of him.”

“Oh, it’s more than that, Emma,” my sister insisted.  “He could have managed on his own.  He was just so in love with her he was determined to follow her wherever she went.  Even to heaven.”

My sister’s words filled my eyes with tears and so I busied myself with a piece of bread.  Gavin put his arm around me but I was too distracted to even really notice. 

Օ

Gavin and I returned home late that evening and I was so exhausted I collapsed right on the couch and kicked my plain, black heels off that matched my plain, black dress.  Gavin removed his jacket and tie, then unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and sat next to me.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I suppose.  I’m sad but I guess I’m happy that they both went together.  I think my sister was right, my grandfather just died of a broken heart.” 

Gavin nodded. 

“That kind of love,” I continued, “I couldn’t imagine.”

Gavin looked at me with narrowed eyes that were more confused than hurt or angry. 

“You don’t think we have that?” he asked me.

“No, I don’t.  I used to.”

He sighed and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he told me quietly.

“I am too,” I answered.  I was sad.  I was beyond sad, I was desolate, but I didn’t have any tears left to shed that day.  I had reached my quota.

“I hate that you feel this way now,” Gavin told me.  “I love you, Emma, so much that the thought alone of living without you nearly kills me.”

“You don’t love me like that, Gavin.”

His head shot back up.  “The hell I don’t.”

“You can’t,” I insisted, holding his stare though I wanted to look away.  “You wouldn’t have done what you did otherwise.”

“Do you really want to do this now?” he huffed.  His eyes were dark green, like an ocean after a storm. 

“You know what, I do,” I said, turning sideways on the sofa to face him.  “I’m too tired to be emotional right now and that’s the only way I’ll have a clear head to talk to you about this.  All emotions aside, I think it’s time we really discussed this.”

“Fine,” he conceded.  “You want to talk, let’s talk.”

“Tell me why.”

“We already went over this, Emma.  I don’t know why.”

“What did I do?” I demanded.

“Emma, you didn’t do anything, you know that.”

“No, I don’t know that!”  I calmed myself before continuing.  I didn’t want this to become a screaming match and so I lowered my voice before I went on.  “Gavin, I know that you went away for work.  I know that while you were there you had sex with your ex-finace.  I know that she is calling you because she wants you back and I know you kept that from me for over a month.  Through all of this, there is a lot that I know but don’t tell me I know that I didn’t do anything to make you cheat because out of everything, that is the one thing I do not know.”

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and first finger.  “I don’t know what to say to you, Emma.  You’re asking me a question I can’t answer.”

“You can answer it!  Just tell me.  You may think that what you say, whatever it is I did that made you do this is going to hurt me worse or make me angrier but it’s not!  Believe me, it’s worse that you’re keeping it from me!”

“Emma, I swear on my life, on yours, on everything we have together, you didn’t do anything.”  He stood from the sofa and looked down at me, his face hard and determined.  “I love you.  I love you so much, when I think about what I did and the pain it’s causing you I want to fucking kill myself.  Not one day has gone by since we’ve been married that I didn’t consider myself the luckiest son of a bitch to call you my wife.  And I fucked it all up!”

He screamed the last part making me jump in my seat. 

“I will do anything, and I mean anything to fix this and to prove to you that I love you the way your grandfather loved your grandmother.  Ask me for anything and I will give it to you, but please don’t ask me to tell you you did something wrong.  Don’t ask me to put any blame on you because I can’t.  Not because I am afraid of hurting you, Emma.  Because it just isn’t true.”

We sat staring at each other for what seemed like ages.  I wanted to believe him but how could I?  It didn’t make sense for a man who was perfectly happy in his marriage to cheat.  And so I told him, “I’m sorry, but I can’t see how that is true.” 

I left him standing in the living room and told him I was going to shower. 

I stayed in there thinking until the hot water tuned cool.  I needed to get away from him for a while.  Away from here.  I had no work and I couldn’t just stay here all day and stew in my misery.  Dealing with the cheating was enough but now with losing both my grandparents it was just too much.  I wasn’t running, I told myself.  But I couldn’t stay here and be around him if I wanted us to move past this.  I needed a break.

When I was dressed in my night clothes, I went searching for Gavin and found him swimming laps in the pool.  I walked to the edge and waited for him to notice me.

When he did he stopped his laps and treaded water in the deep end.  His face looked impassive while he waited on me to speak.

“I need to go away for a while.”

He said nothing but continued to stare at me.

“I’m going to rent a place on the beach.  Maybe bring Yvonne with me.  I need to get away.”

Still no response. 

“I won’t stay long.  A week, maybe two.”

He finally spoke telling me if that’s what I wanted then fine.

“It’s not about what I want, Gavin.  I need to do this.”

He held my gaze for beat and simply nodded and then continued his laps.  I went inside and called my friend.

Gavin

After I had confessed to Emma, I was scared to death each night when I left work that I’d return home to find that she had packed up and moved out.  My drives home consisted of me praying to God that she would be there.  The nerves of that possibility weighing on my mind each day were eating me alive.  When we were together at home, things were so tense and I had no idea how to handle it.  I was trying so hard to be extra kind and loving towards Emma but she just wasn’t having it.

I was being a complete bastard at work, everyone had been giving me looks lately, waiting to see when I was going to blow up again on someone.  It wasn’t fair to them and I’m sure they were all wondering what was going on.  I was usually a pretty easy going and fun guy at work.  Last week Ben finally said to me, “Hey, I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but people are going to start thinking you’re on steroids or going bipolar or something.”

I wanted to tell him that no, it wasn’t that but I had cheated on my wife like a prick and now she hated me and I hadn’t gotten laid in forever, but I just told him it was stress.  He responded by telling me to see a shrink.

I had thought about counseling at the very beginning, thinking it would be helpful for the both Emma and me to talk to someone.  But Emma hated shrinks after the two assholes she dealt with when she was a kid and I didn’t want to pressure her into seeing one when it was me who fucked up.  Still, there wasn’t harm in seeing one myself.  I thought maybe he could give me some suggestions on how to fix this, and so I made an appointment and had my first visit with him last week.

Dr. Pieri surprised me the first time I met him.  Like a fool, I had pictured an older guy with grey hair and a beard, but he wasn’t that much older than I was.  He was married, had been for twelve years and had two sons.  These facts he told me when I made the appointment with him over the phone, saying he felt it was important that I knew that since I was seeing him for marriage trouble. 

When I met him for our first visit I was also surprised at how his office was set up.  There was no couch that I was to lie back on, no leather wingback chair that he sat up while he analyzed me.  We both sat in short club style chairs across from each other in a space that was wide open except for a desk that graced a corner of the room.

I told him about why I made the appointment, that I had cheated on my wife.  He asked if it had been an on-going affair and I explained that it was a one time deal with my ex.  He asked me about Emma, what our marriage was like and how she had been handling the news.

“Not good,” I had told him.  “She hasn’t really said much.  She barely talks to me now and when she does it’s just brief answers to my questions.  She hardly even looks at me.”

For an hour we talked more about our marriage and he told me how one of the most important thing at a time like this is communication. 

“Would Emma consider joining you in our sessions?”

“My wife hates psychiatrist,” I had told him.  “She saw a few when she was younger and they really burned her.  She doesn’t trust you guys.”

He understood and told me that for the several days before our next meeting he wanted me to do more to try to communicate with Emma.

“Do more than ask the mundane, ‘how are you, how was your day?’  Ask her things like how is she feeling right now and let her know how you’re feeling even if she doesn’t ask.  If you can’t get her to open up to you, open up to her and let her know it hurts you that she is shutting you out.”

I thought the advice he gave was pretty good and I tried to take it.  That very night when I got home rather than ask her how she was I said, “How are you feeling right now?”

She looked at me funny and answered, “I’m feeling tired,” and then she shut herself up in the spare bedroom.  After that, I was too much of a coward to try to push her to talk to me.  Maybe I should have though because tonight ended up in a mess. 

I swam laps in the pool and thought about what I would say to Dr. Pieri during our session tomorrow.  I needed to know how I was supposed to convince Emma that she had done nothing to lead me to cheat.  I had made sure he understood that during our meetings, letting him know right away that I was perfectly happy in our marriage and I didn’t hold any resentments towards Emma.

I hadn't told her I was seeing him yet.  It wasn’t that I was trying to hide it from her, on the contrary, I wanted her to know I was serious about doing whatever it took to fix this.  I also didn’t want her thinking I was pressuring her to see him, though.  I would wait to tell her.

I noticed her standing at the edge of the pool and stopped in the deep end to hear what she wanted to tell me.  She was fresh from a shower, her hair still damp and hanging around her face.  I just wanted to pull her into the pool with me and kiss her.  Hold her to me and let the water wash away all of our problems.  I just stared at her instead.

When she told me she was leaving for a while I felt like my whole body turned inside out.  My stomach twisted and my heart rose up into my throat.  This is what I had been afraid of.  She was leaving.  And even if it was only for a few weeks, how was I going to last that long without seeing her, without talking to her?  The thought of it tore me apart.

For the first time in my life I felt like I was experiencing a panic attack and I understood what Emma had felt those times she had one.  My throat closed in on itself and my chest felt like it was under the weight of an elephant.  I didn’t want her to see that though and so I just nodded at first and then managed to say, “If that’s what you want.”

She replied but I couldn’t exactly hear what she was saying.  My ears seemed to stop working.  I think I nodded again and went back to swimming, hoping she’d go back into the house soon so I could allow myself to try to get control of my anxiety.  When she was gone I gripped the edge of the pool and gasped for breath thinking it was a good thing I was going back to Dr. Pieri tomorrow.

11

Emma

Five years ago

I approached the door to Gavin’s apartment and knocked.  Though I had a key, my hands were full with a box of wedding invitations and my mail that I had grabbed when I swung by my own apartment after work.  I was going to spend the weekend at Gavin’s, addressing the invitations with him, and had needed a few things, the invitations included.  Now I waited on him to answer his door, my hands struggling to keep the box balanced and my mail from spilling off the top.

“Hey baby,” he said, looking sexy in loose jeans and a black t-shirt.  He leaned in to give me a kiss after he let me in. 

“Don’t!” I ordered, leaning away from him.  “I still have a cold.”  I had been fighting a runny nose and sore throat all week and I didn’t want to pass the germs to him. 

He took the box out of my hand and set it on the table next to his door that held his keys.  Taking my face in his hands, and much to my objection, he kissed me firmly on the lips.  “I don’t care if I get sick,” he told me and then kissed me again.  He was too sweet. 

I grabbed my mail from atop the box of invitations and collapsed on his sofa, kicking my shoes off and putting them up on the coffee table.  Gavin moved my feet, sat on the table, and then put them back in his lap.  He rubbed my soles firmly with his fingers and I rested my head back and groaned.