This is a sudden fiction piece. It has seen only 1 editing and revision round.
Please address the switches between internal dialogue and the current happenings. I’m a bit unsure whether or not this story is easy for the reader to follow. I am also looking for a good title…any suggestions?
She awakens startled. Her short gasp thrusts her body upward with a jolt. The darkness around her envelops her greatest fear. She squints to scan the bed next to her. She softly sweeps her dry hand across the dimpled duvet. Her heart again drops. Her mind races.
Is he out with the guys again? Why doesn’t he call? He knows I worry. There isn’t anyone else…he wouldn’t do that. He loves me. Maybe he’s been in a terrible accident. I hope the rescuers think to check his speed dial. I’m still on the speed dial, I think. Oh, stop questioning yourself! You are a strong, intelligent person. He’ll be home soon.
She looks over at the night stand where the green glow of 1:37 is burned into her retinas. Careful not to make noise, Nadine pulls back the blankets and shifts to the edge of the bed. She pulls her heavy legs off to the side and stands slowly. Cautiously, she creeps over to the window and pulls the corner of the curtains over to see the driveway.
Do the neighbors suspect something? My car sits alone much of the time. Dave’s only appears late into the night, and disappears sometime during the work day. This must seem strange. They probably know we are having problems. I wonder if they think we are getting a divorce? Oh, why do you even care what the neighbors think? Shouldn’t you just be concerned with repairing this wreck of a marriage?
With a new sense of longing and deepening sadness, Nadine somberly walks back to the empty bed and crawls back onto her side. She begins to stretch her arm across her husband’s pillow. She lies there thinking about how her car appears in the driveway.
Will he come home tonight? Will he stumble to the couch and sleep off the night? Will he awkwardly saunter into the bitter, cold bedroom? Am I the enabler that perpetuates his behavior? I can’t be. He knows how much I disgust his antics.
She places her cheek gently onto the bed next to her, cuddling closer to Dave’s pillow. The cool pillow reminds her of the emptiness that lies night after night next to her.
Nadine, you are such a fool! You knew that after the pleading confrontations that he would not change. Your once attentive husband is now a distant and cold man.
Glancing over at the clock, she sees that it is now 1:56. Small, warm tears begin to form in Nadine’s eyes. She says nothing. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t wipe the tear from her cheek as it slowly rolls down onto her nose. She weeps silently on his pillow.
Twenty more lonely minutes by myself in bed. You need to stop hoping that he will open his eyes some day with a renewed sense of the him you love – the him that is only in the undrunk tumbler left sitting precariously on the side table is not what you signed up for. Be strong! Be independent! Leave his ass! God, I wish I could just do something to change my life. I bet if I changed my life, he’d change his too. Don’t you think? Hmmm, maybe that’s the answer…
Suddenly she hears the slam of a car door. She wipes her tears from her face and rolls back to her side of the bed. The rattle of keys in the door, then the soft creek of the door as it opens. Nadine pulls the blankets to her nose and pretends to sleep. 2:02.
Oh my God… why is my heart beating so quickly? I hope he can’t hear it. The thumping is so strong I feel my whole body move with each beat. I guess there was no accident. Thank goodness! He’s home now. Be strong. Stop crying. What am I saying, I am angry with him! At least my car isn’t lonely anymore.
Dave sets his keys clumsily on the counter in the kitchen. Nadine hears him stumble into the bathroom and hears the door latch.
Who does he think he is?? He doesn’t run my life.
Nadine forcefully throws back the duvet. She steps out of bed marches down the stairs slides on her flip-flops, grabs the keys to her pearl-colored 300 and marches out the door. She says nothing. She doesn’t look. She doesn’t stop as she starts her car and backs out the driveway. 2:08.
How could I do this to our marriage? I’m going to march up those stairs, embrace my wife and tell her I love her for the first time in 10 months. I’ll beg her to forgive me. I’ll look into her eyes honestly. I won’t stop until I am the loving man she remembers me as.
2:10
