I tell her where we’re going, and she snorts out a laugh. “Good for you, honey. I’ll see you there.”
Marching into the closet, I get dressed in black joggers with a bold white stripe down the side and a fitted white T-shirt and then pull myhair into a high ponytail. Emerging from the closet with my overnight bag, I meticulously pack a few things. Roger walks in as I’m shutting the dresser drawer, and I turn to him.
He looks me over, noting I’m not dressed for bed. “Where are you going, babe?”
“To Venus.”
Roger blinks in confusion. “The planet?”
“No,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. “The sex toy store.”
His eyes widen. “But…”
I don’t allow him to argue. “I threw all my toys away three years ago because you considered itdisrespectfulfor a married woman to get herself off.” My shoulders lift and fall in a shrug as I tip up my chin in defiance. “Well, now that I apparently have to take care of my own needs, I’m restocking.”
“I’ll take care of my wife’s needs,” he says, the tone whiny and annoying. It’s the least appealing thing I’ve ever heard. When I turn my gaze pointedly toward the bed we’d vacated minutes ago and then back to him, he sighs. “You know how I feel about having sex with my mom home.”
“And you know how I feel. You just don’t give a shit. I’m tired of living like this, Roger.”
“All you care about is sex,” he argues, and my blood sizzles in my veins because he just doesn’t get it.
“It’s about so much more than that. I have no say about what happens in my own home. You let your mother move in here without even consulting me. She redecorated our fucking living room. She reorganized my spice rack. I love Rose, but this is my house too, Roger.”
He doesn’t say anything, simply scowls, so I continue. “I feel like this isn’t my home. Like we’re just roommates with benefits, except now I’m not getting any of the benefits.”
“So you want me to just kick my mom out on the street? Is that what this is about?” he fumes, and I clamp my lips together and let out a quiet scream of frustration.
“You know damn well that’s not what this is about, so stop trying to gaslight me. You said it would be temporary and you’d use themoney from the sale of her house to get her a small place near here. But that hasn’t happened.”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he pouts. “I like having her here.”
“More than having me here?” I ask, my anger rising because for the first time, it’s all coming to light. He never intended on Rose leaving. This was his plan all along.
He shakes his head, forehead furrowing. “Lower your voice. My mom will hear us.”
My anger is burning so hot, I’m afraid my red hair will turn into actual flames. Taking a step toward him, I lower my voice to a menacing level.
“This is what I’m talking about. We can’t even have a proper argument because your mom might hear us. We can’t have sex because your mom might hear us. I can’t even walk around topless in my own living room, and you want to know why?” I answer my own question. “That’s right. Because your mother is here. I have absolutely no authority in my own goddamn home, and I’m sick of it. I deserve to be your priority.”
Jesus, that feels good to say, and it’s the absolute truth. I’m worth more than this.
“I never thought you’d be this damn selfish,” he says, gritting his teeth.
“Well, I am. I’ve been patient and understanding for three years, and now it’s my turn.” I swallow hard, shoring up my resolve. “I want us to go to marriage counseling.”
Roger’s nostril lifts in a sneer. “I’m not doing that shit. You’re the one who needs to go to therapy.”Oh, this motherfucker…
I poke him in the chest to emphasize each word. “You. Left. In. The. Middle. Of. Sex. To go have tea with your mommy.”
His eyebrows are crunched together like one long caterpillar. He knows what I said is true, though he says nothing, so I continue.
“And maybe you’re right. I probably need therapy too. Because I’ve allowed you to walk all over me for years, and I need to learn to stand up for myself. But you need a whole damn lot of therapy for your shit too. Your mommy issues are unhealthy. Perhaps you’ll learn to cut theapron strings and not be such a goddamn mama’s boy. You’re a married adult, Roger. Act like it.”
With that, I grab my overnight bag, and Roger suddenly goes into panic mode. “Wait. Why do you have that bag?”
“Because I’m staying at Caroline’s house until you make a decision,” I say, marching toward the door. Before I open it, I whirl back toward him. “Therapy or divorce, Roger. It’s your choice.”
And I walk out, leaving my husband standing there with his mouth wide open in shock.