The Year I Left Page 11

  And then something happened. I sensed a shift. I saw it in the way his jaw tightened, his shoulders pulled back. There it was—the imaginary slap on the face. His pride. His ego. The competition.

  He moved closer to me and stared me down. “It’s him, isn’t it? You’re in love with that bastard. Did you sleep with him?”

  “No!” I squealed. “This has been a long time coming. Jack, please listen to me. I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating. Every day, I lose a part of myself. I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror. Do you see me?”

  He turned around and faced the window, hands at his sides, his fingers twitching.

  “Listen to me. Can you see me?” I asked again.

  “Yes,” he mumbled.

  “I haven’t been here!” My voice reflected the frustration I’d felt all this time. “Please, Jack. Please turn around and talk to me.” I stepped toward him and pulled on one of his hands. “Please.”

  He sighed deeply before facing me with tears in his eyes. At that moment, I wanted to erase everything I had just said. I wanted to hold him and tell him that I changed my mind. Maybe if it lingered a few minutes more, I would have acquiesced, agreed to fix my head while he held my hand. I would have done so if he hadn’t given up.

  But he did. “You’re right. You haven’t been here for a while.”

  “I’m so lonely.”

  “I am too,” he admitted, slowly backing into one of the five Oculus armchairs he’d purchased and sagging into it. Jack had insisted they provided great balance for his back.

  “But five?” I’d asked.

  I remained standing.

  “I love you, Carin. Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight, or a head over heels kind of meeting. But over the years, you have shown me how blessed I’ve been to have you as my wife. This change in you, this just happened months ago, after you lost your mother. I’m afraid to throw the towel in too soon. Maybe it’s a mid-life thing. I know it’s because Charlie’s growing up too.”

  I stepped forward and knelt in front of him, cupping his knees, keeping them from unfolding. He didn’t move but kept his eyes on me. I choked on my words; hearing myself say them sealed my decision. “I got lost somehow. I don’t know when. I don’t know where.”

  “I didn’t comprehend the magnitude of all this until you stopped paying our bills and our credit was ruined. It was just so out of character for you. That event confirmed to me that you’d lost your sense of self. Your family used to be your world. Now I think you’ve outgrown us.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I cried. For him, for me, for our family.

  “What could I have done different?” Jack asked, his tone somber, his voice soft. His face went slack, his mouth hung open and his breathing was labored.

  “I think we both focused on the wrong things. We changed as people. Your priorities were different. We worked so hard to accomplish what we have, but those things weren’t important to me. When my mom died, I think I realized that I never had the chance to be my own person.”

  “What does being your own person even mean, Carin?”

  I spun around with my arms in the air. “All this. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m still sad. I’m still despondent every single day.”

  “Is it him? Are you in love with him?”

  “No.” I paused. “And yes.”

  Jack closed his eyes. “I know I haven’t been involved in our life. But you haven’t been here. I haven’t been able to find you. It’s like you’re in deep with something that’s not here, not in our home.”

  “Maybe the idea of him,” I continued. “There’s something missing. I need to mourn my mother. Mourn the loss of our old life. I need to think about what I want, what I need. I need to figure out why I’m feeling this way about another man. He’s engaged to be married. Nothing will come out of it.”

  “You’ve lost respect for me because I don’t work.”

  “Yes, I think so,” I answered truthfully. “It never used to bother me, but now it does.”

  “I can’t change that. Even if I looked for another job, what good would that do for us? We have enough. Why does it mean so much to you? Is it because you feel it’s unfair? You’re working yourself to the bone because that’s who you are. Not because you have to.”

  “You are absolutely right, Jack. Maybe that’s why I need some space. Nothing but Charlie brings me happiness these days.”

  He stayed silent for a moment, staring at his hands, and then looked straight at me. “When did I stop being part of your life?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What will we tell Charlie?” he asked, his voice meek.

  “The truth. He knows, Jack. He’s the most intuitive, mature ten-year-old I know. I’m going to tell him that I’ll be living downtown for a few months while this expansion project is going on. He’ll be away at his new school, and then come summer, he’ll be traveling with Trish and Paul for a bit. It will give us the time we need to sort things out. And when he’s in town, he can stay with me. We will have many times together. I think the space during the week will help me clear my head.”

  “Car. How do I make you find your way back to me?”

  “I need to find myself,” I repeated. “And then I’ll look for you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  New Normal

  One week later, I moved out of our home. With Jack solemnly standing by the door, Trish holding my hand, and Charlie packed up in the car, it was as uneventful as I’d imagined it could be. Two people with nothing in common, both fearful and unsure, each letting go for a different reason.

  “Come back, okay?” were his last words to me. Even then, I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t.

  No matter how intuitive a child is, still he remains a child. It couldn’t have gone more sideways with Charlie. He was mad, angrier than I’d ever seen him before. He’d called me selfish, told me his dad had taken care of us more than I did. He’d asked me to give up my job, made me promise that a break was all it was. He’d cursed—and I’d reprimanded him for it—and cried and held on to me, his disposition shifting from hatred to vulnerability and back again.

  Does this mean divorce?

  What if it did?

  WTF mom!

  Don’t dodge the question. Why?

  I hate both of you. You’re selfish.

  You made a promise, and you can’t work it out?

  We won’t be a family anymore

  If you stopped loving each other, how do I know you will love me?

  You said the same thing to Dad!

  It lasted for a few days. He sulked in my apartment, focused on his video games and Face-Timed his dad at every free moment. I deserved everything he did and said—the implications of my actions a penance for disrupting this perfect, happy family.

  Timing is everything. A friend of a colleague was looking to rent out her condo at the Marina Towers. The place was a steal. A one-bedroom, open-floor concept overlooking the Chicago River. Although the sole bedroom was mine, I converted part of the living room into a loft for my son, complete with a makeshift wall that gave him some privacy.

  I filled the walls with Beatles memorabilia. Val sent them to me from London as a favor. Charlie, a huge Beatles fanatic, gasped at the life-size mural of himself walking down Abbey Road—a housewarming present from his dad. It was important for me to give him a home that would feel just like the other one. In a matter of days, I truly believe he got that message loud and clear.

  Winter was slowly easing into spring. Snow turned into rain, cold air turned into dampness that seeped into your bones. Charlie and I sat on the leather couch facing the clouds, watching a rerun of Stranger Things, but not watching anything at all. The floor was littered with empty shopping bags that surrounded a large blue suitcase. Both sides lay open next to three pairs of size 8 boys’ sneakers.

  “Mom?” he said, turning to look at me before leaning his head on my shoulder. We’d spent many quiet moments like this while getting him ready to leave
for school.

  “Hmm?”

  “Did you know you were moving out that night you and I went to Shakers?”

  “No, not really,” I answered, reaching for his hand and holding it. “I knew I had to make myself better, I didn’t want to think it meant leaving your dad.”

  “Are you still sad now?”

  “A little. I mean, this is so new to all of us, you know,” I answered. He lifted his head and stretched out on the couch, placing his feet on my lap. I caressed them lightly while he folded his arms under his head. “And while you’re away at school, I’m going to be making sure I get better.”

  “Sometimes, you can’t help it. Sometimes, it’s clinical, you know,” he stated nonchalantly. I felt like I was speaking to someone my age. “Like you need medicine or something.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Google,” he said with a thumbs up.

  “Ah.”

  “Besides, you’re not as bad as before.”

  “Was it that bad?” I asked.

  He nodded furiously. “Oh, yeah. You didn’t laugh at all or smile. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even know you were home.”

  I didn’t argue, didn’t even try to respond.

  He went on. “But not anymore. I’ve been counting the times you’ve laughed since we moved here. I’m at eighty-eight.”

  “That’s a lot of laughing!” I said with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, because I’m a funny guy.” He kicked his legs into the air and sat up, his head turning from side to side. “And Lola.” He pointed to a wall-sized portrait of my mother.

  Did I ever tell you she had been Miss Illinois back in the day? In that picture, she had her trademark pixie cut hair and large gold hoop earrings. It had been taken in the seventies when she was just thirty-three.

  “You talk about her all the time now. You never wanted to say her name before.”

  I held his head between both hands and kissed it. “Yes, being alone in this apartment has given me time to think about her and celebrate the times we had together.”

  Charlie fished out his phone from underneath him as it rang. “It’s Dad,” he said, pressing the green button on Face-Time. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hey, buddy.” Jack’s face appeared on the screen. Charlie sat back up and rotated his phone.

  “Say hi to Mom,” he commanded.

  “Hi, Mom,” Jack complied. “Char, I’m just calling to check in and make sure you’re okay and ready for our flight to Florida tomorrow.”

  “I am. Mom and I were packing. I mean, we were packing and then decided to watch Stranger Things.”

  “Huh,” Jack responded. “Carin, so you’re taking a car service to the airport? I’ll meet you at the Priority Check-in Line?”

  “That’s the plan,” I responded. “He doesn’t check into the school until Thursday, so we have a day to visit the area. We have two rooms at the Hilton.”

  Jack avoided my eyes while nodding. “Okay, I’ll see you guys then.”

  “Bye, Dad,” Charlie said as Jack’s face disappeared from the screen. He turned to me before sliding completely off the couch. “Hey Mom, I forgot to tell you. Do you remember Stella, the lady who worked with Dad when I was five?”

  “Oh, you mean Dad’s colleague at the old company?”

  “Yeah, that one. The one with the red hair and super high heels?” he said.

  “Yeah. She was so nice.”

  “Dad had dinner with her last week. I think it was a date. Aunt Trish stayed with me until he came home.”

  I inhaled deeply before pasting a smile on my face. I’d started this—I wanted this. Jack deserved to be happy. Come to think of it, they had been kind of alike even back then. They were a good-looking power couple, complementary and supportive of each other.

  Charlie stood and pointed at the shoes on the floor. “Okay, so we have three pairs. Which one should I take to the school with me? I can’t decide.”

  “Take all three,” I said, joining him in the middle of the living room and gathering the bags that were strewn on the floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Away We Go

  We stayed in adjoining bedrooms at the Hilton across the street from campus. Jack was in 1803 and I was in 1805.

  “Hey,” I greeted as I closed the hotel room door. We’d agreed to meet by the elevator for Charlie’s official first day of school. Brenard Preparatory was an all-boys school in Florida, specializing in the development of gifted students. “Is he ready?”

  Jack shut the door quietly behind him, ruffling his hair before giving me a kiss on the cheek. “He’s putting his shoes on.”

  “How is he?” I asked.

  “Excited, I think,” he replied, rubbing his hands together before exhaling loudly. “I think we’re both more nervous than he is.”

  “So true.”

  Just then, Charlie dashed out, his Fortnite backpack swinging from side to side. “This is happening!” he squealed, causing us to laugh out loud.

  Ten minutes later, we stood outside his classroom after meeting his guidance counselor at the admissions office.

  “I’m going in now, Mom, Dad,” he said, first turning to me and then to his father.

  “Are you sure?” I reached out to smooth his hair down over his ears. “She did say you can take your time.”

  “I’m going,” he said in warning, as if giving me and Jack some time to digest his next move.

  “We’ll be here to pick you up at two,” I said. “And then we’ll take you to your dorm.”

  “Mom! Dad! Do you have to do that? I’m okay, really. You can all go back to Chicago and I’ll see you next weekend.”

  “No, no. We planned to stay until tomorrow. Make sure you’re settled in,” Jack repeated.

  Charlie rolled his eyes and began to walk away. “Okay. But I told you I’ll be fine.”

  And there we stood, side by side, watching as the classroom door closed in slow motion. Our thoughts and emotions screamed on the inside, but on the outside, we remained silent, absorbing the gravity of the moment.

  Jack’s voice broke through at the perfect time. “He’s only going into sixth grade.”

  I laughed. “I know.”

  “So we save our tears for college.” He looked at me with a smile. His eyes looked sad. I’m sure they mirrored mine. This is what we do as parents. We make sure that life goes on for our children, even if it comes to a screeching halt for us.

  “Deal.” I took a few steps away from him, signaling for us to leave.

  “Car,” he said, catching up to me. “Want to have coffee or something?”

  “Sorry, no, I have a conference call in ten minutes. Was going back to the hotel to work.”

  “Okay, let me walk you then,” he said, pushing open the exit door and leading me down the steps to the sidewalk.

  I wanted to notice him, what he was wearing, what he looked like one month after our separation. I was afraid I’d miss him, regret everything once I saw him.

  There was a kind, handsome gentleman in front of me.

  But that was all I saw. I had been married to him once, but he felt more like an old friend to me. I refused to over-think this. We were there for Charlie and nothing mattered more than that.

  We crossed the main street and headed toward the hotel. A strong, warm breeze drifted through, causing the branches of the trees to sway and the leaves to fly around us.

  “Charlie says you’re better,” Jack began as we approached another crosswalk. He guided me down the street, lightly touching my elbow.

  “He did?” I smiled. “I’m so glad he thinks so.”

  “Are you taking the time you need to figure everything out?”

  “I am.”

  “I was really angry about your leaving,” he said as we stopped in front of the hotel’s sliding door.

  “I know,” I answered, glancing at my feet. There were times I wondered whether it had been worth it. What was the alternative? Float through life as if it were
a dream? Life was too short to pretend. There was someone else out there who could love him like I should. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Listen,” he said, as we stepped in. “I just wanted to tell you that I realized the part I played in changing how you feel about this marriage. If something wasn’t amiss, if your heart was full, you wouldn’t have allowed him—” He paused and switched gears. “I would change things if I could.”

  “No, no,” I said, taking both his hands in mine. “Jack, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just couldn’t live with the sadness.”

  “There’s a chance, isn’t there? There’s a chance you’ll come back?”

  Slowly, I stepped back, releasing his hands. He kept his eyes on me, waited for an answer.

  “Let’s focus on Charlie, okay?” I muttered before taking deliberate steps away from him. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  Two months later, I arrived in Asia, anxious to seal the deal on my independence. Financially, this was going to set me on track, help me to take care of Charlie, empower me to live on my own.

  The look of disdain on the stewardess’s face was classic. There I stood, in line to disembark with a phone to my ear and three carry-ons instead of two. TSA pre-check, global entry, first class seats—all that doesn’t matter when you’re in another country, far away from what you’ve grown accustomed to. There was no Jane to help me with my schedule, no Henry to walk me to and from the office. No Matias to confuse me, no Jack to make me want to leave.

  “Char, are you there?” I checked in with Charlie as soon as we touched down. “Landed safely. I’m dropping my stuff off at the hotel and going to my meeting. I’ll text you pictures if I find the Pokemon you’re looking for.”

  “Okay,” he answered.

  “And I ordered more uniforms before I left. They will deliver them to the school office so you can get them from there.”

  “Okay,” he said again.

  “I love you,” I declared, hoping my words would one day erase the pain I’d caused him. “Don’t forget you’re staying with me during spring break. We’ll take trips to the Science Museum—maybe go to New York for a few days.”