I love him. I so desperately love him. It's an acute and intense flood of warmth and adoration that I could never ignore. Could never forget. But that doesn't change the fact that everything is falling apart. We fight for hours without so much as taking a breath in between shouts and screams. I throw shoes and books at him while he silently boils in the corner, concentrating, resisting that urge. We bicker and argue over nothing, but risk everything in doing so. And I can't stop. I don't understand why I suddenly can't stand to be in the same room as him for longer than a millisecond before something he does sends me over the deep end. Then I'd break down, curl up in a ball and let the tears come. Its agony and torture, despair and sorrow. I'm failing at being a wife, and because of our fighting, I'm failing at being a mother. At first Eli didn't understand. He'd come into our bedroom after we thought he was asleep, and tell us he didn't want us to fight. He wanted us to love each other and get along. He said as long as we loved each other, we shouldn't fight and yell. I wished it were that simple. But what do you tell a six year old to make him understand what you yourself don't understand? When everything you thought you had abruptly disappears, can you trust the one who took it away? Could you if you were so deeply in love with him that you never saw this coming? It wasn't his fault, I suppose. And sometimes, late at night while I was lying alone in our bed, I remembered those early days when we'd snuggle under the stars, kissing and talking about the life we'd share, full of love and laughter. That dream quickly died when work and money and life got tangled and lines were crossed, and somehow it felt like there was no going back. I wonder sometimes what would happen if I got the guts to apologize and say I was wrong. If I could sit down and have an entire conversation with him that didn't consist of hollow threats and tears. If only I could be that bigger person. Personal happiness was theoretically in reach, but I couldn't do it. It wasn't in me to give up though. Wasn't in him either, which is why, I suppose, that we're still married. In the back of our minds, we thought we'd make it through that—that it's just a phase. I'm not so sure anymore. So when I decided to leave, it hit him hard.
"Oh, come on Bells. You can't just take Eli and leave. Where are you gonna go?" Jake barely managed; his red-rimmed eyes begged me to stay.
"I can't live like this. Arguing all the time. And it's not good for Eli. We're going to stay with Charlie until I can find an apartment or something." I breathed deeply. Jake looked like he was choking back tears, so I continued. "I still love you, more than I've ever loved anyone. I'll never stop loving you, but for one reason or another, this isn't working. I'm not going to move far away, and you can see Eli any time you want. He can stay over here as much as he wants. I still want you to be a big part of his life. I just don't want you to be the biggest part of mine."
His dark brown eyes flickered to the little boy asleep in my shaking arms. I bit my lip, unable to hold back a sob, but Eli didn't stir.
"You can't do this, Bella. I love you. I love him. Please, can we please try a little harder to make this work? It can't be over." His voice broke. I looked down, unable to bear his pain on top of my own. I shifted under the weight of my innocent son, and picked up our black bag and started toward the door.
"I'm sorry, Jacob." I said then stepped into the dark unfriendly night. The night sky loomed, heavy and hostile. There was a flash of electricity and clap of thunder, and then the sky let loose a torrential downpour. What else. I buckled Eli into his seat and shut the door. I yanked open the rusty door, but immediately a figure from behind slammed it shut, and spun me around. Water clung to his hair and ran down his face. I couldn't tell the rain from the tears. He pinned me against the car, firm but without any anger. We were both soaking wet, and I was freezing except for his hands on my shoulders.
"Can't we talk about this?" He asked.
"Talk or scream?" I said, and saw his shoulders drop. "We've said enough already, don't you think."
"None of it was true. None of it was important. We can fix this. Tell me what part of our marriage is seriously damaged. Communication? We can fix that. We still have what's most important in making a relationship work. We still love each other, you just admitted as much. What, then, cannot be overcome by two people who are in love?" Jake leaned closer and closer, locking our eyes and barely speaking above a whisper so that I strained to hear him. A few more centimeters and I'd be in serious trouble. His gaze faltered; his eyes going from my lips then back to my eyes. My heart gave a lurch and my knees almost buckled. I arched towards him for the briefest of seconds. Would it be so bad to let it all go and rekindle what we'd lost? Could I let myself be so vulnerable? At what cost would it come to my sanity? With a gasp, I snapped my head to the side and pressed myself up against the car.
"No, Jake. I've decided. You've got to let me go. If you love me, you'll let me go." I said, panting. It took every muscle in my body to keep myself from wrapping my arms and legs around him, twisting my fingers though his short black hair and giving in to him. But I couldn't do that, because it wouldn't fix anything. One night of passion and love wouldn't resolve months and months of anger and frustration. I'd just wake up in the same hopeless situation finding it even harder to leave. But is leaving what I really want? Or do I want to make it work?
Just as I'd decided to let it go, give him another chance, and leave my caution and concern out with the rain, Jake dropped his hands. He straightened up and took a step back. I opened my mouth to speak but couldn't find my voice. Jake ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily, looking at the silver moon above. I swallowed hard, realizing what was happening. He'd finally given up.
"Good bye, Bella Black."
With a final pained look at the life I was leaving behind, I slid into the driver's seat of my truck and backed out of the driveway. I had what I'd wanted. Only, I knew I didn't want it anymore. But there was that moment of truth; the point of no return, and I'd royally screwed it up. I always thought Jake would be there, fighting for me; fighting for us. I never figured he'd be the one to let me go for anything short of death. Life would be cold now, dangerous.
Eli squirmed in the backseat, probably dreaming. I imagined a life for him with divorced parents. I never wanted that for him and I always thought I could do better for him. That aspect of the situation alone was enough to make me want to turn around. But pride wouldn't let me.
Somewhere deep in the forest, between the chorus of thunder and hum of the rain, I heard the long lonely howl of a broken-hearted wolf.