After Eleven: Liv & Callum

Chapter 15: Liv

Liv

As the injured party, the scorned wife, the discarded mother - really just pick a label at this point - I'm almost surprised by the empowering nature of being wronged. I've always been the kind of person to try to look at different perspectives and find common ground, but my husband cheated on me and now I have carte blanche to express my feelings as they come, in any way that I want. I've been bombarded by waves of humiliation, anger, grief, sadness, love, and despair coming at all sides and no one expects a single thing from me. I don't have to be graceful or kind. I don't have to look put-together. Hell, I think that I could shave my head tomorrow and my sister would just roll with it.

I always figured that if I ever went through something like this, that I would want to psychoanalyze my relationship or my partner, but I couldn't really give less of a shit right now about why Cal thinks he cheated on me. I don't have anything left in the tank for him. Maybe I will later, when it's not as fresh, but that's a problem for myself in the future.

My immediate concerns are Annie and myself. If I can believe Cal, and use the context clue of him coming home in the middle of the day, then he really did quit his job. We have a savings account that we'll be able to split but it won't be enough to maintain two households. I'm glad that I was smart enough to keep taking some clients but pretty soon I'll have to start actively marketing myself and recruiting new clients to keep a decent income.

Will Cal move out or should I? As the scorned wife, I'm firmly of the belief that I should get first pick of where we live.Considering that I'm also Annie's primary caretaker, that goes in my column as well. Do I want to keep this house and the memories that come with it, or should I start somewhere fresh? If I stay here, will this house feel like a museum of the family that I once had?

I don't know, and it's terrifying. Hence, no mental energy left for Cal's pity party.

As it is, I'm feeling a bit apathetic towards him after my outburst. I don't actively wish him harm but I also think that he's an adult who made a series of choices and I don't need to waste my time feeling as sorry for him as I'm sure he feels for himself.

All in all, I don't feel bad about ignoring him after he finally decides that he's done lingering at the front door like a dinner guest ready to leave.

I can hear the door shut as I head to the kitchen to clean up the morning's mess. After another moment of hesitation, he follows me back through the living room. I'm picking up bits of dried homemade playdough from the counter, which gives me a good use for my hands and a convenient excuse for ignoring my husband.

"Quite the morning," is his attempt to break the tension.

"Hmm."

The playdough is now cleaned, so I start the process of storing what we made this morning and pulling out the cleaner and kitchen towel to remove the waxy residue left behind.

"Why don't you let me do that? Since I don't have a job I may as well work here," Cal says, ending on a forced chuckle.

I turn around from the cupboard, a furrow between my brows. "Why?" I ask.

I can tell that he's a bit taken aback by my question. He opens his mouth almost reflexively, but nothing comes out for a few beats. "Um, well, which part do you want to know more about?" he asks.

I lean a hip against the edge of the counter and take a moment to study him. He's standing on the other side of the island, hands in his trousers and looking around at the kitchen like he hasn't seen it a hundred times. His posture is still and I feel some perverse enjoyment out of how obviously uncomfortable he is. I vacillate almost immediately, ashamed and angry because he's my husband, and this isn't how my life was supposed to go.