The Love Of My Life

Chapter 7

Tony's POV

I walked into the room, watching Maya finish putting the last bit in her suitcase with a sharp, determined focus. The tension in the room was so thick it was hard to breathe. I rubbed my palms together, trying to steady myself, but my voice still shook when I finally spoke. "Baby," I said carefully, "I think... I think maybe you should wait before you hit the road tomorrow. Just—just take some time." I said, walking closer to her.  Her hands froze on the zipper, and she straightened up, turning to face me. The look in her eyes was like a storm brewing—dark, dangerous, and full of energy she was barely holding back. "Wait? For what, Tony?" she snapped. "I've got a schedule. Kamala's expecting me. The campaign trail doesn't stop because you feel some type of way." she said.  "It's not about me," I said, standing up. My heart pounded, but I forced myself to hold my ground. "It's about us. About this. Look at what's happening, Maya. You're shutting me out, and we can't even have a conversation without it turning into a fight."

Her jaw clenched, and I could see the muscles in her neck tighten as she crossed her arms. "Tony, I'm leaving in the morning," she said flatly. "Whether you like it or not. This isn't up for debate." Her words hit me like a slap, but I refused to back down. "Maya, we need to fix this," I said, my voice rising despite myself. "Whatever's going on between us, we can't just ignore it. You can't just run off like everything's fine when it's not." I said,  She threw up her hands, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Fix what, Tony? There's nothing to fix! You're making this a bigger deal than it is." she said, yelling,  "Nothing to fix?" I repeated, my voice breaking. "Maya, you can barely look at me. You don't talk to me anymore. You've been carrying something, and instead of letting me help, you push me away. How can you say there's nothing to fix?" I said.  She shook her head, her eyes flashing with anger. "You don't get it, Tony. You never do. I don't need you trying to 'fix' me. I just need you to let me do what I need to do."

"Maya, I'm your husband," I said, my voice softer now, almost pleading. "I'm supposed to be here for you, and you're supposed to let me. But I can't do that if you keep shutting me out." I responded, She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she turned away, her back stiff, and grabbed her suitcase. "I'm leaving," she said, her voice cold and final. "End of discussion." I watched her walk out of the room, my chest aching with a pain I couldn't put into words. I wanted to go after her, to make her stay, but I knew it wouldn't make a difference. She was already gone in so many ways, and I had no idea how to bring her back. 

I sat there, staring at the door Maya had just walked out of, her suitcase rolling behind her, the echo of her words still ringing in my ears. "End of discussion." She didn't even look back. Something inside me cracked the last thread of hope I'd been holding onto, snapping like it was nothing. My chest felt hollow, my breathing shallow, and for the first time in my life, I didn't have any fight left in me. I dropped my head into my hands, my elbows digging into my knees. I couldn't even cry anymore. The tears had dried up days ago, replaced by this unbearable weight pressing down on me. I had tried everything—talking to her, giving her space, pleading with her—but nothing mattered. She wasn't letting me in. She didn't want me in.

What's the point? I thought bitterly. What's the point of loving someone if they don't even want your love? I hated myself for even thinking that, but the thought wouldn't go away. I'd spent days trying to fix this, trying to fix us, but it was like fighting a losing battle. She didn't want to fight for us. She didn't even seem to care that I was breaking right in front of her. I got up, pacing the room like a man possessed, trying to shake the suffocating feeling that I had failed. Failed as a husband. Failed as a partner. Hell, maybe I'd even failed as a man. But what else could I do? How do you love someone who's already checked out? How do you keep fighting when the other person doesn't even want to stand in the ring with you? I sat back down, defeated, my head leaning against the wall. The silence in the house was deafening, and it was then that I realized—I couldn't keep doing this. I couldn't keep holding on to hope that wasn't there anymore. I wanted to believe in us, in her, in the life we'd built together, but it felt like I was clinging to something that didn't exist anymore. Maybe it never did.