"Louisa, just listen to me. Don't get on that plane. You don't understand; it's vitally important that you do not get on that plane."

"Martin, we've been through this….Can I please just speak to you later". Rubbing my aching head, I hung up my mobile and continued on to the airport.

Why couldn't he understand that I just need a break? I need to try to understand where things went wrong for us. We had been so happy after we rescued James Henry from crazy Mrs. Tischell, who's still completely bodmin, if you ask me, no matter what Martin and Ruth say. He told me that he loved me, that he would always love me. We had grown so much closer during the months after that frightening time. Then one night lying close together after making love, Martin whispered, "Louisa, will you marry me?" "Oh yes, yes," was all I could say. We were both so happy; I know we were.

Even after our crazy and memorable wedding night, we had been happy, at least for a few weeks. Martin had always been a man of few words, monosyllabic I had once called him; but a month or so after our wedding, he quietly started to pull away from me, spending more time alone in his consultation room in the evenings and working on his clock.

When his blood sensitivity came back, why could he not tell me? Why did he confide in Ruth and not me? I am his wife, the woman who loves him, the woman who cares for him, deeply. He said he didn't want to worry me. Doesn't he realize that helping each other through the good times and bad is what brings us even closer? But he doesn't seem to want to get closer, which is what hurts so much. When he can't sleep and leaves our bed, I feel bereft, and I worry about him. Why can he not reach out and confide in me?

And having his mother around didn't help matters either. What a shrew. I know that's not kind, but it's true. Try as I might, nothing I did could please her. And the way she treats Martin, horrible. How could she not call him immediately after his father died? That was unforgivable. No wonder he has trouble showing us how much he cares; I bet she never showed him any love, letting him cry himself to sleep as a baby. How could any mother do that?

It all came to a head yesterday at the sports day when he behaved abominably. He had agreed to hand out the medals and to give a short talk on the benefits of exercise. He is always telling his patients to get more exercise; and as head teacher, it is my responsibility to encourage the children to develop both their minds and their bodies. His brief lecture about how sports participation is not that important completely contradicted what I had just said to the children. And then he just stomped off the stage and across the field, shouting how he didn't have time for this.

He had rejected my request that morning for us to take a quiet weekend away by ourselves; and then… to ignore me and stomp off, making it clear to all my colleagues and pupils that he had no respect for me, was just more than I could bear. I was humiliated and furious, all of which led to my accident, broken collarbone and resolve to get away.

Then last night he asked me not to go, first giving me his usual medical reason, this time about the risk of another blood clot on the plane. The hospital doctors had assured me it would be fine; he worries too much. Then he expressed concern about the difficulty of caring for James with my arm in a sling. I will admit he had a point; but my mother will help, I am sure. Even though he didn't say anything, I could feel him glowering through the darkness; he's never made a secret about how unreliable he thinks she is.

Then finally he admitted that he would miss me, miss both of us. It almost sounded like he was choking back tears, and my heart almost melted… almost. That man! He can be so insensitive, exasperating, and infuriating one moment and then say the most loving sensitive things the next; it was so hard not to pull him to me and forgive him. It was all I could do to resist him. But I did ….resist him, that is. Even so, I reached out to him and tried to reassure him that I knew how much he loved me, and that I loved him.

Then I reminded him how unhappy he was, how all of it had started after our wedding, and how I wasn't able to help him even though I had wanted to help and had offered to listen more than once. And I suggested, once again, that he consult with Ruth's psychiatrist. He did say yes, but does that mean he will or just that he understood? I think his yes means he will; I hope it does. Because we won't be able to move on until he figures it all out. Maybe some time alone will help. I hope so. I hope so.