The Secret Life of Blythe

24. Blythe

I watch as he types his email to me.  I watch him on the camera and I watch all his facial expressions with a smile on my face.  He's a beautiful man, but even more when he's happy and he's obviously happy writing me this email.  I've had three weeks to myself, watching him here and there, gleeful when I've seen his tears and anguish, glad to see he's in pain, like I have been. I never thought I'd hear myself say such a thing about him, but, If he wasn't in so much pain it would sully what I thought he felt about me, so the more pain he shows me the better Ive been feeling about myself. It's plane old nasty of me but that's what his betrayal has done to me, I'm bitter and resentful. 

Before this all happened it would have destroyed me seeing him fall apart, but now, I'm struggling to feel anything toward him other than burning hatred right now. He's living with what he's done though, he's paying for it by me leaving him to have some space, his idea of hell.  I've taken away the enjoyment of him watching his son move around in my belly and making plans with me for the future, I've taken away the comfort of my smell and all the things he takes any pleasure in.  He's devastated, but I haven't done this out of real spite, more necessity in the end, for both of us. 

I read his email and scoff, I bloody wish I could fulfil his image of me lazing on a beach in Italy.  If that's how he wants to think of me then I'll let him have it.  I do feel an ounce of emotion by the thoughtfulness of the nursery though, our boy will love it, I can't feel anything but happiness when it comes to him.  If it's hand painted by his own father, that's all that matters.  It's something that's been playing on my mind anyway, I've been beating myself up over the fact that I must be a terrible mother already, having not sorted a thing out for him.  All the things that most parents would have done by now in the excitement, so, It warms me a little to know he's taken it upon himself to do it.  I spotted him leave the house earlier, I spent ten minutes in the garden when he drove away, after a couple of week's down here, I needed it.  I stopped at the nursery on my way back, to snoop, when I saw the door wide open.  I knew he must have gone off to do something but the full extent of his plans I wasn't sure of. I wish I'd set up a camera in this room now but I didn't so it'll be just as much of a surprise as he expects it to be, I'll give him that one thing.

I've been listening in to his therapy sessions, call me nosey but being stuck down here twenty four seven, affords me the time to be, and I like listening in to hear about how much he's pining after me, it's satisfying knowing I'm so close and he has no idea.  Some of the things he discusses show just how deep his torment runs, it feels wrong for not affording him the privacy but it's helping me to understand him a little better than what I did and that can only help when it comes to seeing him again.  His thoughts are still jumbled, he finds it hard to express himself but I kind of get him, I always have, that's why the pain runs so deep.  When he says he needs me to wash away his past I get that too, i feel the same.  The last person to touch me was Rory and I hate that thought, even though I adore my friend, it should have always been my husband.  It makes me even more angry, but I hope that in time I'll thaw out enough that the images of them won't live rent free in my mind anymore.  My general wellbeing has, apart from the lack of sunlight and surfing, been much better overall.  I miss being in the ocean with my board more than anything, It's frustrating now that I've had a taste for it again.

I watch Leo a little more, I laugh at his quirks and then remember I dislike him, but it's not this wholesome version of him that rattles me, it's the other side of him that I thought might show itself, but so far he hasn't lashed out or reverted to anything dangerous as I expected. 

Now that I'm not around he does stuff around the house that he knows would annoy me.  He does it and then laughs and then like the little pussy he is, a few minutes later he puts it back to how I would like it, almost like he's terrified I might return any second and scream at him for messing it up.  It's funny, he's funny when he's like this but it's too little too late, I've seen the other side of him that I just can't un forget now, at the moment it's dulling out all the goodness that I remember out him.