In Another Lifetime

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But we can't go back in time, and change things. We just have to do the best we can with what we have, right? Maybe things would get better. Maybe Jason would find a job he was willing to take, and start helping with the bills. Maybe he would stop being such a slob, and clean up after himself. Maybe I would start appreciating him again. Maybe I'll find a magic lamp, and a genie will pop out and grant me three wishes.  

~♡~

I laughed sarcastically.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, and reached for my purse. The longer I sat here, the more bullshit I'd have to listen to when I finally went inside.

I walked to the front door, turning the knob, and hearing the tv as soon as I started opening the door. I wouldn't mind being wrong for once. I really wouldn't. 

I stepped inside, hanging my purse on the hook and kicking my shoes off, pushing them out of the way.

"God damn, Laney, what took you so damn long to get home? What's for dinner, I'm starving."

"Traffic, Jason. You ask me the same thing every day." I rolled my eyes. " We're having spaghetti and meatballs for dinner."

I walked towards the kitchen, hoping he had nothing more to say.

"It's not those fucking frozen meatballs again, is it? They're fucking disgusting."

I sighed, not turning around. "You don't have to eat it, feel free to find something else if you don't like it." I walked into the kitchen, not waiting to see what else he had to say.

I grabbed a glass, getting a drink of water, and walked to the freezer to retrieve the bag of meatballs. I set my glass on the counter, reaching for a pot from the pot rack, setting it on the burner. I grabbed a jar of sauce from the cabinet, twisting the cap opened and dumping it into the pot. I turned the burner to simmer, and tore open the meatballs, dumping them into the sauce, and putting the lid on. I'd let them simmer for 15 minutes before I started the pasta.

I debated whether to go upstairs and change out of my jeans and work smock into something more comfortable. Pajama's would be perfect, only I didn't know if I might end up going for a walk after dinner. But a pair of sweats and my favorite hoodie were calling my name.

I walked thru the living room, avoiding eye contact with Jason, heading for the stairs.

"Dinner should be done in about a half hour."

"Great. I can't fucking wait. I love frozen fucking meatballs."

There was so much I wanted to say to him. Some days, I almost did. But it would be a waste of my breath. He would continue to sit here on his ass all day, every day, and do nothing. Nothing to help me out around the house. Nothing to contribute monetarily.

I went up the stairs, not saying anything, wishing I could be anyplace but here. I should just leave. But where would I go? Besides, I liked my house. I just didn't like my husband much.

There was a time we had been happy. At least I think I was happy. I had loved being his wife, spending time with him. We used to go out to eat, or go to a movie now and then. After the kids were born, we went on picnics, and to the amusement park once a year. Our relationship had been great.

He had a good job, working for a large auto dealership, and made very good money. We bought this house 5 years after we'd been married. We both loved it, and we were proud of ourselves for being homeowners in our 20's. We'd been able to have it paid off in 20 years. We'd been living here 26 years.