She lies in the king sized bed in their master bedroom. She lies on her side, facing the window, staring at the red digits of the alarm clock that is strategically positioned on her bedside stand. The room is nearly silent, void for the sound of the ceiling fan whirring overhead, and breathing, hers, and her husband's. She lies at the edge of the bed with her back to him.
He lies on the other side of the bed, facing the door. He lies on his side, facing the door. He's as close to the edge as he can get. He lies awake, looking at the wall. He listens to the sound of her breathing. Knowing, that tomorrow brings another bitter goodbye, he contemplates voicing what they have allowed to remain unsaid. He exhales, and wonders if he's let things go too far.
She shifts her focus to the window as she hears thunder approaching. Soon the rain begins banging against the window pane. The lightening cracks outside the window, and the thunder isn't too far off. As she listens to the sound of the storm outside her windows her thoughts quickly shift to her marriage, and the storm that has been brewing within the four walls of this room. A storm that she's been trying to keep at bay for too long. She feels the tension, and the strain with every passing second. She can tell he feels it too, with every breath that he takes. She considers telling him what she's been thinking for a while. The thought has been hanging around for too long to ignore it. She wants to tell him that this isn't working.
He feels her shift, rolling onto her other side. He feels his heart pounding, in anticipation of what she's about to say. He knows that she can only be pushed so far, and she's close to her breaking point. He has been waiting for her to call it quits for months. Too prideful to admit his wrongdoing, he waits for her to call it quits. He exhales, and rolls towards her. As the lightning flashes outside of the window he glances at her face. He swallows hard, waiting for her to verbalize what he knows she's been feeling.
She glances up at him with honey colored eyes, "Don't go," she whispers.
As the thunder cracks her stoic façade shatters. In a rare moment of weakness her vulnerability shows through. He places his hand on her face. He cradles her chin with the palm of his hand. He presses his lips against hers, and for a moment he forgets all the obstacles. He pushes aside all of the memories of the hurdles that they've faced together. In that moment all that either of them can think of is being together.
In the morning the sun shines brightly. She is awake before her alarm begins to chirp. She awakens, tangled in eight hundred thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. She takes a deep breath, and opens her eyes. She lies on her side, facing the door. She finds the other side of the bed empty. She sighs in defeat. She proceeds to get out of bed, slipping his white t-shirt on over her head in the process. On the way out the door she pulls on her pajama pants. She exits the room, and head downs the stairs. She finds him headed for the door.
"Harm," she whispers.
He turns and meets her glance. He stops short of the door, with his bag slung over his shoulder.
"I didn't want to wake you," he insists.
"You didn't want to say goodbye," she replies, bitterly.
"It is work, I have to go. You know that. If I had my choice I would stay."
"You always have a choice," she responds, with a hint of anger in her voice.
"Sarah, please don't do this."
She purses her lips, and the look in her eyes tells him that he's pushed her too far. The expression on her face tells him that he's looking at a woman whose let go. She swallows hard.
"If you walk out that door, don't expect to come back," she says laying things out in simple terms.
"Sarah…"
She cuts him off, "I can't do this anymore. More importantly, I won't. I deserve more."
He takes a step towards her, noting that she looks as if she's about to cry. He wants to comfort her. She extends her hand, pressing her hand against his chest, to literally keep him at arm's length.
"Don't. Just go."
He clenches his jaw, conceding to her will. He nods, and keeps a stiff upper lip, as he turns to go. She watches him go, for the last time, she vows to herself. He makes it to his car, slamming the door behind him, before it hits him. He puts the key in the ignition and grips the steering wheel with both hands. The tears begin to fall.
Inside she climbs the stairs, alone in their four bedroom house, the one that they planned, and built together. It's Saturday, and she isn't due at work. She has no plans. She reaches the top of the stairs, and hesitates outside the first door on the right. She pivots in the direction of the door. She stands frozen in front of the wooden door. It glares back at her, taunting her. She hasn't been inside that room in over a year. She takes a deep breath, and steps towards it. She grips the doorknob. She twists the knob, and pushes the door open.
She doesn't reach to her left to flip on the light switch. The natural lighting from the window situated in the center of the far wall illuminates the room. She takes a deep breath, and surveys the room. The walls are green. To her left sits a glider, and a changing table. In front of her there is a crib full of clothing. The room is full of unopened boxes, and empty promises. She turns to her right. An open closet door catches her eye. She stares at a closet full of baby clothes. She feels her heart breaking all over again at the shattered dreams that surround her in this room.
She lowers herself to the floor. For the first time in a long time she allows herself to feel it all. In a t-shirt that smells like her husband she sits there engulfed by emotion. The tears begin to fall. They continue to flow until she's sobbing. She pulls her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly.
