I put my water glass in the dishwasher and then went to my bedroom. Brayden was asleep. I climbed into bed, turning my back to him to lay on my side. On the bedside table, I caught a glimpse of our wedding picture. I didn’t know the bride anymore. She was prettier, thinner, and happier than me with her dream life ahead of her. I was a frumpy housewife whose husband didn’t want to touch her, and to be honest, when he did touch me, I felt too self-conscious about my extra weight to enjoy it.
Perhaps it was time to move that picture. I’d set it there thinking it would remind me of all the hopes and dreams I’d had that day to push me to strive to have the happiness I’d felt back then. Now it just highlighted how drab and dreary my life had become. The only sunlight in my life now were my kids.
I’d been so sure that staying home to be a mom was the right choice for us. It was what I wanted and Brayden and I were financially able to afford it. Brayden supported my desire, although he’d put us on a budget. We had a nice home and lived well, but we certainly had more money than our outward appearances showed.
Now, I wondered if maybe our marriage only worked when we were a partner in business. We’d never had any problems while we worked side by side. Today, I felt detached from him and the business we built together. I didn’t feel like he was particularly attached to me and the kids either. Not that he didn’t love the kids. When he was around, he was a great dad. But during the week, he was hardly around when the kids were awake.
I pushed away the thought that I had other choices. I could go back to work now that the kids were in school, but if Brayden and I weren’t getting along at home, we didn’t need to bring that hostility into the business. I could also leave. I could be like fifty percent of all marriages and call it quits.
I closed my eyes, willing my worries away. This was the life I’d set out to have, and so I had to live it even though it wasn’t living up to my expectations.
The next morning, I had my normal routine. I was up before Brayden and in the kitchen making breakfast. He worked hard so that we could have all that we did, so I’d gotten into the habit of letting him sleep in on Saturdays.
I heard the shuffle of feet and turned to see Lanie wiping her eyes and holding her stuffed teddy bear.
“Hey baby.” I squatted down and held out my arms.
She came to me, giving me a hug. In moments like this, I felt guilty for complaining about my life. There was nothing better than quiet moments with my kids.
“What’s for breakfast,” she asked, resting her head on my shoulder.
“What would you like? Pancakes?”
“Yeah.” She lifted her head and smiled. She had a sweet yet mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes, so like her dad’s. “Can you make them into clowns?”
“I can try. Your dad is the expert at that.” I put her down.
“Is he here?”
I felt a sting in my heart that the kids saw him so rarely they didn’t even know when he was home. “He’s sleeping. How about I get the batter ready and then I’ll get him up.”
“Okay. Can I help?” Lanie put her bear on the kitchen table.
“You sure can.”
Noah made his way into the kitchen just as I was fishing an egg shell Lanie had broken out of the batter.
“Good morning sweetie. How’d you sleep?” I asked him.
“Good. Whatcha making?” He came to stand next to me.
“We’re going to ask daddy to make clown pancakes,” Lanie answered.
“Does that sound good?” I asked, picking him up so he could see our progress.
“Can we have bacon too?”
“Sure. Don’t forget you have a soccer game today,” I reminded him.
His expression fell. “Do I have to?”
“It’s fun,” I said, not knowing why because he clearly didn’t enjoy it. But Brayden was adamant that he needed to finish the season.
“He needs to learn to finish what he starts, even things that aren’t fun,” he’d said. “He should be grateful he can play soccer.”
“It’s four-year old soccer, Brayden,” I’d argued, but to avoid a fight, I acquiesced. It was hard to argue against Noah having opportunities that Brayden hadn’t.
“Why don’t you two set the table and I’ll go get your dad up,” I said putting Noah down.
With the kids engaged in an activity I felt safe enough to leave them alone to do, I went back to our bedroom.
Brayden was out of bed, and I could hear the shower running. I opened the bathroom door to let him know the kids were eager for his clown pancakes. The glass enclosure of the shower was covered in water and steam, but I could still see him. He had one hand braced on the tiled wall and the other around his dick as he stroked it fast and hard.
I closed my eyes as hurt washed through me. He’d rather fuck his hand than me. I looked down at my faded yoga pants and a sweatshirt that
