The Sick Wife Page 7

  “I love seeing you in any state,” he says.

  Just another thing that men say… but probably don’t really mean. I am sure that if he could see how hideous I look right now, after crying for hours, he would run for the hills. Yvette looks fantastic while crying—how am I supposed to compete with that?

  “I can’t do video, Gabe. Sorry.”

  “Milla… I really don’t want to lose you. Are you sure you’re okay with this arrangement?”

  “What choice do we have?” I ask him sadly. “I guess this is our last phone conversation.”

  “Not forever. Just for a little while. I have to be a good husband again, just to help her be okay.”

  “I know. I know,” I say with a sigh. “Please keep me updated on her health and rehabilitation. I hope her condition will improve quickly.”

  “Thank you for taking such good care of her.”

  “Of course,” I say softly. Then I press a hand against my forehead, where I am developing a splitting headache. “Gabe, are you going to sleep in the same bed with her?”

  He hesitates. “I don’t know, Milla. I haven’t been close with her in a long time…”

  It’s a painful and uncomfortable question to ask, but it just falls out of my mouth. “Are you going to have sex with her?”

  “I don’t think she’s strong enough for that right now,” Gabe answers.

  “But she will be soon,” I say.

  “Yes… I know,” he says quietly.

  He’s not really answering the question. My chest aches, and my head aches. I pinch the bridge of my nose to try the soothe the pain. “Just keep in mind that she probably isn’t able to handle a pregnancy. It could be life-threatening. Or at least… very challenging.”

  “That makes sense. But you should know… Yvette has never wanted children. So, you shouldn’t worry too much about that.”

  “But accidents happen,” I respond. “In addition to being really hard on her body… I feel like that would be the end of us.”

  “I understand, Milla. I promise you that I am not intending to have children with Yvette. I don’t know what will happen when she’s here, so I can’t make any other promises. It’s been a long time, but this is still her home, and she is still my wife…”

  “It’s fine if you want to be with her,” I say, even though I don’t really mean that, and I feel like I’m twisting a knife in my own chest with every word. My head is pounding so badly that my vision is blurring. “I know things have been difficult between you two lately… maybe some couples’ therapy could help.” Like literally, what are the words coming out of my mouth? Why am I saying these things?

  “Why are you saying these things?” Gabriel asks me, exactly echoing my thoughts. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “I’m trying to be logical. What if you got together with me, without making sure things were over with her? And regretted not trying harder, and eventually wanted to go back to her?” This headache is really threatening to kill me, and I need to lie down and stop thinking.

  “Milla, I’ve made my choice. I’m not going to go back to her.”

  “Yes, you are,” I say tearfully. “You’re going to change your mind once she’s there.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’ll forget about me when you have a real woman beside you instead of a cell phone.”

  “Milla, her mother just texted me that they are outside the house.” He sighs deeply. “I understand your fears. But we both need to have faith now—and this is only going to get harder. Please don’t think I’m so weak and that my words are so empty that I would give up on us easily. I meant everything I said, despite the circumstances.”

  “Okay, Gabe,” I say softly. “But are you going to fuck her?”

  “I don’t know!”

  I end the call. I don’t want him to hear me crying.

  I can’t.

  I just can’t think about it. I can’t take it.

  I have the sinking feeling that I’m about to lose everything. So I just curl up into a ball and hug my pillow tightly, trying to breathe.

  He texts me, and I see the notification pop up. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.

  I can’t respond right now. I just let the phone lie there, beside me, staring at his messages. I can’t move.

  I’ll try to be strong, and wait out this difficult period of time. Maybe it’s just one massive obstacle, a difficult phase we need to survive in the beginning—or maybe it’s the end. I don’t know anything. But my head feels like it’s going to explode.

  It’s unbearable.

  I don’t think he understands how this feels.

  Chapter 14

  Day after day passes without me hearing Gabe’s voice. At first there are a lot of text messages, because Yvette is exhausted and sleeping most of the day. I’m still happy on those days. As long as I can text Gabe and feel connected to him, I feel like everything is going to be okay. But as Evie grows stronger, he disappears more and more to spend time with her.

  Sometimes I send him messages and they go unread for hours. I stare at my phone feeling sick, unable to cope with the silence. Wondering what he’s doing. Wondering if they’re having a wonderful time together, laughing and talking about old times… wondering if I’m about to lose him. Wondering if he’s happily reconciled with her, and if his life is perfect… wondering if there is no longer any place for me. If he’s fulfilled and secure, comfortable in his domestic bliss… I wonder if I should give up and let him be happy.

  But he always comes back.

  And all the fear and anxiety melts away, instantly replaced by love.

  He doesn’t tell me too much about his time with Yvette. I can tell he’s trying to be respectful and maybe trying to avoid hurting me. But the questions and fears are driving me slowly mad. And the total lack of any time frame for how long I have to continue waiting like this.

  My headaches are also getting worse.

  I asked Doctor Mike if he could take a look at me, and he said they are probably just tension headaches from stress. Basically, I’m clenching the muscles of my scalp so tightly that it’s like a seatbelt squeezing my skull. Yikes.

  Just to be safe, he sent me for an MRI, but they didn’t find anything strange.

  That surprised me, because I definitely felt like I had a brain tumor that was about to kill me.

  Turns out I’m just in love.

  * * *

  Things between me and Gabe settle into an unsatisfying, uncomfortable rhythm. I get used to never hearing his voice. There are still stolen moments of joy and laughter, but they are so few and far between. It’s getting hard to hold on. I start to let myself go a little, and engage in unhealthy habits.

  I start to drink every day. I don’t sleep very well. I barely eat, and when I do, it’s garbage. I start to miss some shifts at work. As we descend into the worst days of winter, depression starts to creep up on me. Slowly at first, but then it just drops on me like a pile of bricks. I actually feel like I’m suffocating under a pile of bricks, all the time.

  I try not to bother Gabe about it. I don’t want him to know how weak and pathetic I am. He’s already got one sick wife to take care of. Besides, it’s hard to text someone that you’re unwell and not hear back from them for over twelve hours. I just start to feel like he doesn’t care. Like Veronica doesn’t care. Like no one really gives a damn if I’m around, if I’m alive or dead. I start to feel isolated and withdrawn from everything and everyone.

  One day, on the way to work, I am listening to a sad song in my earbuds. I am crossing the street when I notice a yellow taxi cab. The driver seems distracted. Without even thinking, I step into the path of the moving vehicle.

  At the last moment, he notices me and slams on the brakes, and I continue walking, pretending like it never happened. But my heart is beating rapidly.

  And then, I find myself standing a little too close to the edge of the subway platform. So close that the driver of the train act
ually pulls the emergency brake. I am startled when I realize what has happened, and that people around are looking at me. I quickly step away and try to disappear into the crowd. I wasn’t really planning to do anything, was I? I was just thinking about it… a little. And kind of wishing I was brave enough to try. And wondering if it would make me feel better, if it would make the pain go away… but the fact that I was wondering so much that I made a train stop is a bad sign.

  As soon as I get above ground and get a signal on my phone, I call Gabriel.

  I don’t even think about it. I haven’t heard his voice in weeks, and I haven’t called him in weeks. I know I don’t technically have “permission” to call him right now, and I’ve been trying to be a good little girl and follow his rules. But I just really need this today. There’s no answer. He doesn’t pick up.

  He texts me that he can’t talk because his wife is nearby.

  I stand there for a few minutes, not even caring that there are tears streaming down my face in public. What is this? Is this even a relationship? How can I not do something as simple as call someone who supposedly wants to marry me?

  I look down at my engagement ring in confusion, wondering if it means anything at all. Now I suddenly understand why Yvette flushed hers down the toilet. It’s a bit of a wakeup call.

  Later that day, I walk down to the psychiatric area of the hospital, and to search for a doctor I trust. I see the light on in Dr. Tanaka’s room, so I enter his office without permission and stand by his desk, trying to figure out what to say.

  “Camilla, what’s wrong?” asks the aging Japanese man.

  “I need help,” I tell him softly. “I want to try my best to keep working—but I’m not doing very well. I don’t want everyone to know.”

  “It’s perfectly normal, with everything that’s happening right now.” He gestures to the chair in front of him. “Do you want to sit down and tell me about it?”

  I glance at the chair skeptically. “Is there some medication that can help me?”

  “Maybe. But we’ll also need to talk. You’ve mentioned before that you had some family history of mental illness?” he asks.

  I nod, tears filling my eyes, surprised that he remembers. “My mother,” I tell him. “That’s why I’m here. The moment I noticed something was wrong… I just know I need to fix it fast.”

  “There is no quick and easy fix. It’s going to take work,” he responds. “But you came here and asked for help, and that’s the first step. We’ll work on this together, find you the right prescription and some counseling.”

  “Thank you,” I say quietly. Trusting him and feeling safe, I sit down in the chair.

  Chapter 15

  The experience of not being able to call Gabriel in a bad moment has really changed something for me. I stop wearing his ring all the time. I leave it at home in the box, in a drawer.

  Mike notices the disappearance of the ring on my finger, and starts peppering me with questions that I don’t have the energy to answer. I miss more shifts at work, because I just can’t manage to be around people and act normal.

  I begin taking antidepressants, which make my stomach hurt badly. They also make my body feel completely numb. I feel totally unlike myself, and worse than before. I know that I should go back to Dr. Tanaka and ask for another prescription—he said that it might take a few tries to find something that works for me. But I just can’t get out of bed anymore.

  I feel like I waited too long to try to fix my depression, and now I am just stuck like this. I don’t even have the strength to make a phone call to Dr. Tanaka and ask for more help. I miss some of our counseling sessions. He texts me offering to conduct a counseling session over the phone, but I don’t respond. I don’t really want to talk to anyone on the phone.

  I mean—there’s one person on the planet I want to talk to, but that’s impossible. I try to text him less, lately… it just feels like I’m bothering him. I feel unwanted. All his excitement and passion for me seems gone.

  I feel so isolated and unloved, and I stop dreaming about our future together. Stop dreaming about having all those cute little babies. It just feels impossible. I don’t have anything to look forward to, and I can’t seem to find joy in all the little things that used to make me happy.

  It just feels like there is only emptiness ahead of me. Like there is no point in trying. Sometimes it feels like I’m dying inside. I try to explain to Gabe a little about my depression but it seems to make him withdraw even further away.

  Sometimes he even goes twenty-four hours without speaking to me at all. He always tries to make some excuses or explanations about it later, and I always forgive him. He always reassures me that he hasn’t given up. But I feel sick.

  I’m not sure how much longer I can last like this.

  The uncertainty, waiting, and silence is just slowly killing me. It doesn’t feel like love. It feels like torture.

  One day, to my surprise, Gabe calls me.

  I am so happy and surprised to see his name show up on my phone. My heart soars.

  I haven’t heard his voice in so long, I’m craving it more than food or water. I need this. I need this so badly.

  “Gabe?” I say when I pick up, with excitement and hope in my tone.

  There is silence on the other end of the line. “No.”

  It takes me a second to understand what is happening. It’s a woman’s voice.

  Oh my god. I take a deep shuddering breath.

  “Evie?” I ask softly.

  “You fucking lying bitch!” she screams at me through the phone.

  My hand flies to my mouth in horror. Oh, no.

  “I was in a fucking coma!”

  “I know,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry, Evie.”

  “Don’t call me that! Don’t act like we’re friends. Shame on you!” She is hyperventilating so much she can barely speak. “And everyone at the hospital said that YOU were the one who saved my life. They said you polished my fucking toenails and sat by my side every day, talking to me. Is this why? You were feeling guilty about phone-fucking my husband? Getting engaged to my husband?”

  My heart is beating in my ears. I cannot speak.

  “I bet it really disappointed you that I survived! Sorry to inconvenience you, bitch!”

  This is worse than I ever imagined it being. I wasn’t prepared for this tonight.

  “I thought you were my friend,” Yvette is saying, and I can tell that she is crying. “Putain!”

  How did she find out?

  “I don’t think he ever really loved you,” she says, gasping for air in order to speak, and coughing between her insults. “He was just bored. I bet he was too lazy to buy you a proper ring, so he just recycled that hundred-year-old monstrosity. It’s a cheap, poor quality diamond anyway. It belongs in the trash, so I guess it’s suitable for you.”

  Ouch… I thought that she liked the ring. When she woke up from her coma, she complimented it… but maybe she was just being nice, and this is the truth about how she feels.

  “And by the way,” Yvette says harshly. “The nudes you sent him are amateurish! You don’t look sexy at all. You look like a cow! That is not a flattering angle for your vagina, at all!”

  “Oh…” I say, feeling wounded. “Well, I’ve never taken phots like that before.”

  “Obviously! Don’t talk to my husband anymore. Don’t text him or call him again, ever!” She sounds hysterical. “And I don’t know why he would even want someone like you. Boudin! Plouc! He must have been losing his mind, temporarily insane. You’re hideous, Camilla. Sous-merde!”

  “Yvette—”

  “Try and take better photos for the next man, if you want to keep him,” Yvette hisses. “Your pussy looks disgusting!”

  She hangs up the phone, with those words ringing in my ears.

  Well… I didn’t think this could get worse, but it did. And I know that Yvette knows a thing or two about sending attractive selfies, because I saw the ones she sent to her Sexy
Babe. Those pictures looked super hot… so if she says mine were disgusting, I’m sure they were disgusting. I feel even worse now. Crap.

  And I actually honored my promise to her, and I never told Gabriel about Sexy Babe.

  I can’t do anything but lie down. I want to talk to someone, but I’m not sure who I can share this humiliation with.

  It takes a few hours before Gabriel texts me.

  Milla, I’m so sorry she saw those photos. She got a hold of my phone while I was working, and all hell broke loose. I had to spend hours calming her down.

  I don’t really know how to respond. I just feel so sick and awful. Totally humiliated. Guilty for hurting Yvette.

  I can’t do this anymore, is all I can type.

  Please forgive me, Milla. I didn’t want her to find out about us like that… but now that she’s able to walk around again… she’s basically terrorizing me.

  I make a face of disgust. He has a beautiful woman who loves him unconditionally, and she’s been unable to walk for months… and now that she’s healthy again, it’s called terrorizing? She must really love you if she’s still around after seeing all our text messages and the pictures we sent to each other. Good luck, Gabriel.

  Good bye, Milla.

  * * *

  After another few hours, Gabriel sends me a long letter. He explains all kinds of details about his relationship with Yvette that he’s never shared before. He talks about her controlling behaviors that have made him feel trapped and imprisoned. He talks about being deeply unhappy, but still trying his best to satisfy all her needs. He tries to explain and justify how distant he’s been lately, and unable to talk to me.

  I stare at the message, not wanting to forgive and cave again, and lose all my strength. I want to be strong and determined about the fact that this is not a healthy relationship for me, and I deserve better, I deserve someone that can actually be there all the time. Someone to call when I feel like stepping in front of a subway train. Someone who would never make me feel like stepping in front of a subway train. Not someone who’s torn between an old life he can’t let go of, and a new life he claims to want, but doesn’t really act on obtaining.