One Day

I sat down in my car and buried my face in my hands, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the situation I was in. It was now 11:30, it was dark outside. The streetlights barely illuminated the road as I pulled out of Kirsten’s driveway, my iPod kicking into life.

How was I going to tell Gena? She would be utterly devastated that I had gone behind her back, especially with someone whom she had trusted. She genuinely felt that our therapy sessions had been helping us, although, I think she knew deep down that it hadn't made the slightest bit of difference.

We still argued like cat and dog almost every waking moment we spent together. Our family were sick of it, our friends were sick of it and most importantly I was sick of it. I was sick of feeling like a constant disappointment because that’s what happened when your wife was always miserable. I, as her husband had felt this certain obligation to do whatever I could to please her, and of course I had always tried my best, but how do you please a person when your the source of their pain?

It’s impossible.

Against my better judgement, I decided not to go home. I drove through the streets of Huntingdon for hours, just enjoying the sense of emptiness and relaxation. I had always been the laid back one, but lately I felt like I could never be positive and it was both mentally and physically draining.

I stopped to check my phone at a set of traffic lights and sighed loudly. I had five missed calls and seven texts, all from Gena, who by now would be livid. I knew she was probably waiting up at home for me to return, but I couldn’t physically force myself to move. I felt like my muscles, tendons and ligaments had turned to bone. One hand was locked on the gear stick, the other onto the steering wheel, my gaze fixed firmly on the dark road in front of me.

My phone buzzed loudly against the dash. I frowned and looked down, my wife was calling me to come home. Regretting it instantly, I answered the phone with baited breath. I half expected her to yell but she was worryingly quiet.

“Babe,” shit. She had been crying, it was obvious in the tone of her voice. “where are you?”

I closed my eyes, willing the tears back. I leaned my elbows onto my knees, my forehead resting against the steering wheel. “I’ve just been out with the guys, baby. We had a few things to finish up at the studio..”

“Zachary…”

The way she said my name then confirmed my worries. She knew something was up, and that I was an out and out liar. After all seven years of marriage, you are likely to get to know some one and their little quirks very well in that space of time.

“Don’t lie to me. I don’t care where you’ve been ok? I just want you to come back..” it was too much for me then. I couldn’t stop keep the barricade of tears back. Literally in the moment I felt like balling my eyes out.

I swallowed a deep breath, trying to regain my composure before I answered her. My heart was pounding in my chest, my breathing shallow. I was the biggest coward of all time, because now I was seriously doubting the decision that I’d made. The promise to Kirsten seemed like one big lie now.

“I’ll be home soon.” i muttered hanging up the call, and flooring it back to my place.