Restoration

12. Proposition

Patience

This was a great session, guys. I'm really proud of you both. I'll see you in a week.

And then James and I were alone. I was still looking at the laptop screen, ignoring James' eyes on me.

"What now?"

His gravely voice split the silence. I pondered whether I should open my mouth and express my concerns. There had never been any point before – it never ended well. But, maybe there was hope? He didn't seem angry with my earlier outburst. I cleared my throat tentatively and willed my heart to stop its erratic beating.

"Well –." I coughed again.

James watched me quietly, his arm still around me.

"You said a lot of nice things, but I don't know. I just don't know. You say I'm the center of your universe, but that doesn't make sense to me. I feel like you treat me like you hate me a lot of the time."

The room was still. I fidgeted with the tissue shreds in my lap.

James let out a deep breath.

"That's fair. I see that." He paused. "But you have to understand that I think about you constantly. I'm either home or at the farm. I make you sit with me, even if it's in silence, as I work. I just - ."

He grunted frustratedly and removed his arm from around me.

"I just don't know why I can't treat you like a normal husband is supposed to treat his wife. I just - ."

He fumbled into silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Patience – I don't know. There's something deeply broken in me, and I don't know what to do about it."

He hunched over, defeated.

My mind flashed to a little boy standing in front of his father, wanting love and guidance, and instead receiving insults and aggression. What was a person to do with that kind of example?

I rested my hand on his shoulder and it began to heave. His body betrayed his cries before the teardrops falling to the floor did. My heart broke for him and the little boy he was never able to fully be.

Finally raising his head, he addressed me through his tears. "Please take care of yourself, Patience. You can't let people treat you like how your aunt and uncle and I have. Your heart is so big – it's not fair. I can't do this to you anymore. This isn't right."

A sob racked through his body, and he hunched over again.

"Why do I have to be like this? I can't do this anymore. I hate what I've done – the life I've created. How could I treat Patience so badly?"

He was never fighting me, but himself. It didn't justify what he did, but I was simply collateral damage to whatever war he was waging within. He was incoherent now – practically wailing.

I had never hated anyone – not my aunt and uncle. Not even James. But in that moment, I could say easily that I hated James' father. The wretched man who had raised two fractured and fumbling men approaching their forties and yet still so lost. That evil man who sat so smugly in his rocking chair while his wife all but withered away. How could someone be so blind to their negative impact on their whole family?

"JJ."

My husband recoiled from my touch. Frantically, he hurtled out of the room. I followed after him, unsure of what to do but knowing that I could not leave him like this. I would be there for him like his father, and even his mother, could not be.

"JJ."

He wailed again and attempted to stumble into the bathroom. I dashed in front of the entrance. He stood swaying in front of me, tears and snot mixing in his beard beneath his bruised nose. I grabbed his waist quickly and pulled him into a tight hug. Like a deflated balloon, he sagged against me.

"JJ, you have done many bad things, but you are not a defective, irredeemable man."

He clung to me, his wailing subsided to a shuddering wheezing.

"Did you hear me? You've done a lot, but no one is too far gone for redemption. And what your father has done to you and your whole family is not fair. No child should be treated that way."

My eyes burned with tears for him, for me, for all who found themselves in a similar situation. After a moment, he lifted himself off me. Gingerly, he rubbed my arms and took my hands in his. I looked at him and he at me. Noticing again the snot leaking from his nose, I broke the silence.

"Let me get you a tissue."

He held my hand fast though.

"Patience."

I stilled. His voice was weighty and hoarse.

"Let's get a divorce."

Author's Note

It's good to be back! Hopefully I can keep this up!