Derek stepped closer.<\/p>\n
He didn't touch me.<\/p>\n
He didn't need to.<\/p>\n
My body had already reacted to his movement.<\/p>\n
I stopped beside my father and tried to steady my breathing.<\/p>\n
"Can we talk about this?" Derek asked.<\/p>\n
I looked at the floor.<\/p>\n
He lowered his voice.<\/p>\n
"Just you and me."<\/p>\n
That was how our conversations usually began when other people were nearby.<\/p>\n
He would sound reasonable.<\/p>\n
He would ask me to speak privately.<\/p>\n
He would tell me that nobody else understood our relationship.<\/p>\n
Once we were alone, the conversation would change.<\/p>\n
I knew that pattern.<\/p>\n
I had lived it too many times to mistake it for something new.<\/p>\n
"I don't want to talk right now," I said.<\/p>\n
Derek stared at me.<\/p>\n
"You don't want to talk?"<\/p>\n
"Not tonight."<\/p>\n
He looked toward my father.<\/p>\n
"This is unbelievable."<\/p>\n
My father remained beside me.<\/p>\n
He wasn't blocking the door or arguing with Derek.<\/p>\n
He was simply there.<\/p>\n
Derek turned back to me.<\/p>\n
"Your dad comes over for dinner, and suddenly you're leaving the house?"<\/p>\n
I swallowed.<\/p>\n
I could hear the accusation beneath the question.<\/p>\n
He was making my father's arrival the cause of the problem.<\/p>\n
Not the bruise.<\/p>\n
Not the fear.<\/p>\n
Not the years of arguments I had just admitted to.<\/p>\n
The problem was that someone had noticed.<\/p>\n
"I need some space," I said.<\/p>\n
"You have space. You're in your own home."<\/p>\n
I almost answered that it didn't feel like mine anymore.<\/p>\n
The words came close.<\/p>\n
Then I remembered how often I had swallowed things like that because I didn't want to make him angrier.<\/p>\n
I took a breath.<\/p>\n
"I don't feel comfortable staying tonight."<\/p>\n
Derek's expression hardened.<\/p>\n
"Because of one argument?"<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
I wanted to tell him that it hadn't been one argument.<\/p>\n
I wanted to list every night I had gone to bed frightened, every time I had apologized just to end a conversation, and every morning I had woken up wondering whether the previous evening had somehow been my fault.<\/p>\n
But I didn't need to prove the entire history of my marriage in that hallway.<\/p>\n
I had already told the truth.<\/p>\n
I didn't have to make him agree with it before I could act on it.<\/p>\n
"I've made my decision for tonight," I said.<\/p>\n
Derek shook his head.<\/p>\n
"You're letting your father get involved in something he doesn't understand."<\/p>\n
My father looked at him.<\/p>\n
"She told me what she needed."<\/p>\n
"She hasn't told you everything."<\/p>\n
"Then she can tell me more when she's ready."<\/p>\n
Derek looked frustrated.<\/p>\n
He seemed to be searching for a way to make the conversation return to familiar ground.<\/p>\n
I knew what he wanted.<\/p>\n
He wanted my father to leave.<\/p>\n
He wanted me to put the bag down.<\/p>\n
He wanted the three of us to sit back at the dining table and finish the meal as though the conversation had been nothing more than an uncomfortable interruption.<\/p>\n
I wanted that too, in a strange way.<\/p>\n
Not because it would solve anything.<\/p>\n
Because I knew how to behave in that version of the evening.<\/p>\n
I knew how to smile.<\/p>\n
I knew how to clear the plates.<\/p>\n
I knew how to pretend that everyone was tired and that tomorrow would be better.<\/p>\n
Leaving meant admitting that tomorrow might not be better at all.<\/p>\n
It meant accepting that I couldn't control Derek's reaction by choosing the right words.<\/p>\n
My father glanced at me.<\/p>\n
"Are you ready?"<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
Derek looked at the bag again.<\/p>\n
"You're really walking out over this?"<\/p>\n
I felt the old instinct to defend myself.<\/p>\n
I wanted to explain that I wasn't trying to punish him.<\/p>\n
I wanted to say that I still cared about him.<\/p>\n
I wanted to reassure him that this didn't have to mean the end of everything.<\/p>\n
But every explanation seemed to pull me back toward the same place.<\/p>\n
I would be responsible for making him feel better about the decision I had made because I was afraid.<\/p>\n
I was tired of that responsibility.<\/p>\n
"I'm going for tonight," I said.<\/p>\n
"That's all I can decide right now."<\/p>\n
Derek looked away.<\/p>\n
He rubbed his hand over his mouth, then glanced toward the dining room.<\/p>\n
The cake was still waiting on the counter.<\/p>\n
The flowers were still on the table.<\/p>\n
The dinner I had spent the day preparing was still there, unfinished.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I felt guilty.<\/p>\n
I imagined the wasted food and the empty chair.<\/p>\n
I imagined what Derek might tell someone if they asked how my birthday had gone.<\/p>\n
Then I realized that I was worrying about the appearance of the evening again.<\/p>\n
Even now.<\/p>\n
Even with my bag in my hand.<\/p>\n
I was still trying to protect the story other people might hear.<\/p>\n
My father opened the front door.<\/p>\n
Cool air entered the hallway.<\/p>\n
I stepped toward it.<\/p>\n
Derek spoke once more.<\/p>\n
"Emily, please."<\/p>\n
I stopped.<\/p>\n
He sounded different now.<\/p>\n
Not quite angry.<\/p>\n
Not quite apologetic.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I wanted to turn around and believe that the evening had finally changed him.<\/p>\n
Then I remembered that I had heard many different versions of his voice before.<\/p>\n
A softer voice didn't erase what had happened.<\/p>\n
I turned toward him.<\/p>\n
"I need to go."<\/p>\n
He didn't answer.<\/p>\n
I walked outside with my father.<\/p>\n
The door closed behind us.<\/p>\n
I stood on the porch holding my small bag, looking at the steps where my father had first arrived that evening.<\/p>\n
Earlier, I had been afraid he would see my face.<\/p>\n
Now he had seen it, and I was no longer inside the house pretending it meant nothing.<\/p>\n
I was still afraid.<\/p>\n
But I was outside.<\/p>\n
For that night, it was enough.<\/p>\n
Derek stepped closer. He didn't touch me. He didn't need to. My body had already reacted to his movement. I stopped beside my father and tried to steady my breathing. … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":36588,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-36598","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36598","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=36598"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36598\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":36618,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36598\/revisions\/36618"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/36588"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=36598"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=36598"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=36598"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}