He’s rehearsed this. I recognize the rhythm from yesterday’s practice run “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About patterns. You’re right, there is one.” …
“No, listen. Remember Boston? You said the same thing. That I seemed ‘distant.’ Right before your conference.” …
“I’m not deflecting. I’m identifying a correlation. Every time you have a deadline, I become the problem.” He’s using her psychology degree against her …
“Of course I sound different. I’m exhausted. Do you know what it’s like defending yourself against shadows?” …
“That’s not… okay. Name one specific time. One actual instance that isn’t just your interpretation.” His pupils are dilated. He hasn’t slept in three days …
“See, you’re conflating two separate conversations. That was about Simon’s promotion. You’re rewriting history.” He takes notes, actual notes on this. …
“I have the texts right here. Want me to read them? ‘Miss you too.’ ‘Can’t wait.’ ‘Thursday works.’” He’s reading from a blank screen …
“I’m trying to protect what we have. Someone has to. While you’re building these elaborate narratives.” …
“Your sister said the same thing happened with David. No, she did. At Christmas. You don’t remember?” She never said that. He believes she did …
“Maybe we should try couple’s counseling. If you really think I’m… fine. Virtual. Whatever helps.” …
“I love you. Despite what you’re becoming. Despite how hard you’re making this.” He ends the call. Practices looking wounded in my bathroom mirror. I pretend to be asleep