He knew, just by the way she hung her coat up a little too decisively, that she was mad. Probably at him. Probably for something he'd done in the last four hours. Probably. But, she was a woman, and he honestly had a hard time telling the difference from when she was angry in general, when she was angry at him, when she was angry at someone else, or when she really just needed some chocolate. Giving her chocolate usually seemed to help in any case, though. He really didn't understand women's obsession with chocolate.
He picked up her coat and hung it back on the hook, it had fallen down. Probably in anger of having been hung so violently. Her hat was on the floor. And her shoes weren't even anywhere near the shoe shelf. Oh, she was angry alright. He walked into the living room and flopped down on the couch, turning on the TV. That's when her head appeared in the doorway, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed.
"Well?" she said, raising her eyebrow slightly. He hated it when she did that. It was amazing how things that were so cute in the beginning of a relationship, would annoy the hell out of him now. Like that fucking eyebrow raise. She knew it annoyed him.
"Well… what?" he sighed, not really taking his eyes off of the screen. There was a time and a place for these arguments, and it wasn't right now. He honestly just couldn't be bothered, and she was being such a woman; with her highly secretive irritation over something, or someone, he had no idea about. Of course he loved her, but she could be such a pain in the ass sometimes.
She narrowed her eyes a bit more, rolled them, scoffed and turned on her heels. He thought he caught a word or two of her mutterings, but he didn't really care. She wasn't hurt, it wasn't going to kill her, so she should just get over whatever it was, or tell him about it. He was too bloody old to be playing the guessing game.
"Are you going to give me the silent treatment all week, or are you actually going to tell me what's wrong?" he asked at the breakfast table next morning. Her very immature flick of the newspaper as she turned a page, while continuing to ignore him, was his only answer.
Getting up to clear his plate, he caught a glimpse of her scowl as she angrily turned another page. He rolled his eyes at her immaturity, and went to get ready for work.
"Stupid radio. Never play any decent songs." he mumbled to himself in the car trying to tune in something that wasn't… crap. He felt old. Apart from some wrinkles around his mouth and eyes and a very slightly reclining hairline, he really didn't look 49. However; his hair didn't seem to want to recline at the same pace. This meant that it looked like he was going to end up with a little island of hair just above his forehead, surrounded by a much too obvious nothingness. Still, a few more years to go before that happened.
He touched his hair cautiously.
Now then, why was it that his wife wasn't talking to him?
No, he couldn't be bothered. He wasn't going to win husband of the year award anyway, so it seemed a little futile to work himself up about it.
"Haley? I'm home!" he shouted as he chucked his hat in the bowl on the dresser and hung his scarf on the coat rack. Following the smell, he found her in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring a sauce, her back to him. Pulling up a chair, he sat down at the kitchen island and rubbed his chin.
"I can't fix it, if I don't know what I've done; why you're mad at me."
She turned around, looking him in the eyes for the first time in two days, and opened her mouth as if to say something, but changed her mind and turned around again.
"I know" she said, placing her left hand on the counter. "I'm not mad. I was at first, a bit, anyway. And I know I've been a bitch lately, Nathan. I could've given Jamie a run for his money, even when he was at his worst teenage rebellion age, which is saying something."
She smiled a bit. It was a nice change.
"Well, if you're not mad anymore, could you please tell me what's going on?" he asked, impatience creeping up on him quite rapidly. He couldn't really remember the last time they'd had a fight like this, but then again, it wasn't really a fight. He didn't even know what he had done. After so many years of marriage, they'd moved past big fights, although one did occur every now and then. When you've been partners with someone for 20 odd years, a certain comfort settles, and a pattern develops. He read the current events section of the morning paper while she read the culture, then they'd swap. It was cliché, but these things just… happen.
Now he wanted to know why she was acting like she was.
"At the party, when that guy was flirting with me, you… didn't do anything. You just smiled, nodded, and went back to your conversation. And I know it's stupid, but I just thought about how you'd have reacted 20 years ago…"
"Seriously? You're mad at me because I didn't beat up the guy for talking to you…?" he interrupted her, rolling his eyes. She gave him the look that meant he should shut up. He did.
"No, it's just that I want you to want to beat him up, kinda. And I know that doesn't make sense, but… god, the years have gone so fast, with the kids and work and everything. Now we've been married for 23 years and it's like we're not a couple anymore. We're just Nathan and Haley. Who happen to be married with two children. We used to be so passionate…" she sighed, feeling a bit stupid. But, glad to get things off of her chest. She hadn't even really realised that she felt this way until the party two nights ago. Now it was blatantly obvious.
He got up and walked over to her, stroking her chin gently with his thumb.
"Don't you miss it?" she asked, biting her bottom lip. He cocked his head a little and smiled.
"Well, I do miss that we had sex so often." He said. She tutted at him and turned around. If he wasn't going to be serious, she couldn't be bothered.
"Oh, come on Haley. Yeah, it was nice in the beginning, but I like us better now. I know you, and you know me. There are no secrets, no surprises, so little drama. We're so completely comfortable with each other, and I love that. I still love you, of course I do, but it's just in a different way. A better way." He smiled, and saw her lips curve upwards a little.
"I didn't get jealous because… well, why should I? He doesn't know you like I do, and he never will. I trust you, completely. There's not a doubt in my mind that we're gonna be cursing each other out for another 40 years. That guy can flirt all he wants. I know you're with me through thick and thin. You're stuck with me. I didn't get jealous because there's nothing to be jealous about. I don't blame him for flirting with you; you're hot!"
She wacked his arm and smiled bashfully.
"It was nice to fall in love. It was nice to feel what I felt every time I saw you. But it did get tiring to walk around half nauseous all the time…" he winked at her and continued. "I was so nervous to see you, and even when we got married, and especially when you were pregnant, I just couldn't stop thinking about you. Now, I don't get that same feeling, but I get a different one. I love coming home to you, talking to you, sharing the paper with you, sleeping next to you, visiting our children and feeling like we're ancient when we see how young they are. We're not missing out. We've got what everyone's looking for. Everyone can fall in love, Hales; the hard part is staying in love. We've faced our challenges. Now we get to just enjoy each other. That guy will never have that with you. So why should I be jealous?"
He made a good point, she had to admit. He'd turned into such a wonderful man. A wonderful, annoying, messy man. Her man. She leaned into his chest and smiled. Alright, her child bearing days were over, her newlywed years were over, her start of life excitement had died down, but she had failed to see what replaced it; a wonderful, albeit a rather unexciting, normal life. And the perfect love. The perfect lover.