ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴛᴡᴏ

Hurt people hurt people

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TWO MONTHS LATER
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ZOE

I open the front door quietly so I don't wake Lala. It's three in the morning, and she should be asleep by now. I close the door quietly so I don't wake her, but then the light turns on, which nearly scares me half to death.

"Where were you?" Lala asks with me arms crossed.

I slapped my hand on my chest. "For fucks sake Lala don't scare me like that."

"Where were you?" She asks again.

How do you tell your wife that you've been sitting in your car for hours after work everyday and feasting on gas station snacks and ice cream so you don't have to come home to deal with her?

I know. I'm a terrible wife. Lala has been on my ass every day about baby this and baby that, and I just need time away from her to breathe.

I haven't called Kayla. Well, I texted her just to let her know I added her to my contacts. Yeah, that's about it. I dont want to cheat on Lala, and I don't intend to. My father had an affair, and then my brother had an affair. Somehow, I just feel like it's up to me to break to cycle and have a loving marriage.

"I was.... working late." I answer.

"Lie. I called your office. They said you left at six, and it's three now, so where the hell have you been?" She asks angrily.

"Nothing, Lala." I say to her and drop my bag onto the floor. I'm too tired for this.

"Zora." She says in a warning tone.

"Don't do that." I mumble.

"Do what?"

"Call my name like I'm a fucking child." I answer.

I know. I shouldn't cuss at her. She's my wife, and I love her. But I'm just so tired. Tonight, I replaced the gas station snacks with alcohol and sat in my car by the beach, drinking and watching the waves crash into each other.

"What am I supposed to do when my wife sneaks into our house at three am. like a teenager."

I groan loudly and collapse onto the couch. "Back off, Lala." I slur.

"Are you drunk?"

"No." I lie.

Yes. Maybe.

"What has gotten into you?" She says while standing above me.

"Jesus Lala, what's up your ass tonight. Why are you even awake?"

"Well, you see, my wife has been coming home late every night, so it just has me wondering who she's spending her time with." Lala says with a fake smile.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means the apple doesn't fall far from the damn tree." She says, throwing her hands into the air.

I stare at her stunned. "What did you just say to me?"

Lala stands there, and she wraps her arms around herself. "I want my wife back, Zoe."

I begin to chuckle. Like the psycho switch was flipped off in my brain. I stand up, getting closer to her, and I'm angry. I'm angry she doesn't trust me. I'm angry that she let this whole baby thing take over our lives.

"You don't think I want my wife back?" I say to her in a firm  and calm voice. My voice was low, but the tone was filled with anger. "Every night I come here and immediately it's about a fucking baby that doesn't even exist yet."

"I -"

"No. You think I'm cheating on you. You want to know what I've been doing? I've been hiding out in my car eating junk food for hours so I don't have to come home and deal with this bullshit."

I think this is the alcohol taking now. Or at least that's what I'm blaming it on right now.

"So I'm bullshit now, Zoe? I'm trying to create a better life for us." She says in a desperate tone.

"Jesus christ, Lala, don't you get it?!" I yell. "I don't want a better fucking life. I liked our life the way it was. Going on trips in our private jet and going on cruises and the best hotels located in every part of the world. Why would I want to ruin that with a dumb baby?"

I don't know why I'm saying this. I'm rumbling at this point.

I look into Lala's eyes, and I can tell she's conflicted.

"You knew I wanted kids, Zoe."

"Not this badly! Fuck. It's like you're not even listening to me. Truth is Lala maybe its a good thing we can't find a damn surrogate because I can't do this." I say while sitting back down on the couch.

I'm too drunk for this bullshit.

"You think I liked all these painful fertility treatments?! I did this for you!" She yells.

"No, Lala. You did it for you. I don't want kids, so it's either me or the imaginary fetus you keep talking about." I mumble and slump back onto the couch.

I just want to close my eyes and drift off to sleep. I just want to forget this ever happened.

The next morning, I wake up the sound of something heavy falling. I open my eyes, but the sunlight is blinding, and my head is pounding.

I rub my eyes and sit up, but that's when I see Lala with a huge suitcase heading towards the door.

"Woah woah woah. Where are you going?" I say, getting up as fast as I can while trying to keep the vomit at bay.

"My mom." She answers coldly, and I grab her suitcase to stop her.

"No, Lala, I'm sorry. Please, I didn't mean it." I plead, but she angrily removes my hands from her suitcase.

"I need a break. To think." She says, and I can tell she's been crying.

"No, Lala. You don't have to go. I promise I'll do better. I'll come home on time, I promise."

I'm on the verge of panic.

"You and I both know this is beyond coming home on time." She says.

"Please. I love you."

Lala is my life. I like waking up to her. I like smelling and touching her long, thick Indian hair. I love my wife.

"Please, Zoe. Don't okay. I need space."

"No, no, no. Please, Lala." I plead with a trembling voice.

She looks at me like she wants to stay, but she shakes her head and walks out the front door. I stand there in utter shock and my lip quivering. Space? What doesn't space mean? Is she leaving me for good? Are we separating? Is she giving up on us?

This is my fault. It's all my fault.

"Please. Don't go." I whisper.