The Broken Princess Journals : Sally

5. Maybe

08/06/13

"How do you know when it's over? Maybe when you feel more in love with your memories than with the person standing in front of you"

Gunnar Ardelius, I Need You More Than I Love You and I love You to bits

"The word maybe was beginning to annoy me, because the only thing that was fixed was that maybe would be with me forever"

Marcus Zusak, Underdog (Wolfe Brothers #1)

"I'll be going into town to do a little business," says Donnie as he buttons up his favorite brown and blue plaid shirt and jeans.

I know he's lying. Since we got married he has never worked a day in his life or had one single successful business venture. It was always the same. He wakes up early, gets dressed and goes to work on another business venture. Sometimes he comes home with supper for the night or candy for me, but I never see any money. He thinks I don't know but some of those days he goes to his mom's house and just sits there, some days he goes around asking people he knows to lend him money but most days he's with her. I watch him comb his hair meticulously spritzing some of my hair spray on for good measure.

I know he's lying but maybe today will be different. Maybe today he's telling the truth. I mean I'm his wife, he can't really be lying to me all the time right?

"What kind of business are you doing?" I ask knowing full well that the answer won't be the truth.

He flashes me his famous Donnie smile, the one that fooled everyone all the time, the one that has everyone thinking I have the perfect man and the perfect marriage.

"Don't you go worrying yourself princess, I'll tell you all about it when I'm done. I promise you I'm expecting some big money," he says kissing me on the cheek.

My heart twists in my chest. After three years of marriage and nine years of knowing this man, I can tell when he is lying. But he is my husband there has to be some sort of redemption. Maybe if he would just get a job.

"Don," I call out desperately as I see him place his hand on the door knob.

"Yeah," he says pausing with his back towards me.

"Baby I was talking to Dad the other day and I heard about some guy he knows looking for people to work for his company. Maybe if you..."

"Maybe if I what?" I can hear the dangerous undertone in his voice. Lord now I've made him angry.

"If I what Sally? Went crawling on my hands and knees to your father? You and your dad think you're so much better than me right?" He spits out making me cringe.

"N..n..no Dee, I was just..."

"You were just trying to remind me what a useless man I am in comparison to the great Bishop Reagan Richards is all. Well why the hell did you marry me? Why don't you go back to your Daddy dearest?" he hissed making me back up into the bed.

"I'm sorry," I say weakly

"I can't even deal with you ," he says in disgust walking out of the room.

I jump at the sound of the door slamming and a single solitary tear runs down my cheeks. I rub at it angrily. What's the point of crying? This was my life. That was my husband. Not much I could do to change that. I just needed to learn how to keep the peace, not make him so angry.

I need to get ready for work. I shower and get dressed grabbing my purse and rummaging through it for my car keys. I pick up my wallet to see if I have any gas money. Nothing there. I distinctly remember putting a whole wad of cash in my wallet last night after I came from the ATM. Donnie. Well it's my own fault for keeping the money in my purse, I knew better, soon as I fell asleep he'd be in there. Oh well can't be late for work on top of everything else.

I drive into the church yard, pushing back the tears behind my eyes. Can't let myself cry here. Get through the day, do some work, find a corner all by yourself at home to cry in.

This was never where I imagined myself to be. Twenty-five and miserable in my marriage, stunted in my career. What happened to that bright eyed Sally with the whole world in front of her, ready to take on the world? I sigh heavily as I pull into my usual parking space. I guess life happened.

I walk into the church building, open my office door with my keys and put my bag down. I don't think Dad or Mom are in yet so I have time to settle in and look normal. I turn the computer on and get to work.

....................................................................................

It's been a long day, but I got through it. It was hard working with your parents. They kept it professional and didn't ask, but I saw the looks. The worry in my mom's eyes as she looked at me, the way my Dad's normally jovial façade was tinged with stress. I knew it was all my fault. Everything is my fault. My husband is the way he is because of me. Maybe if I could make a little more money. Maybe if I was able to give him more to help him with his business ventures. If he had some money maybe he would be happier, maybe he wouldn't resent me and my parents so much. Maybe he'd be faithful.

Who am I kidding he doesn't love me, probably never did. Maybe it would be better for me if I just died. Maybe.