“There.”
“What?”
“You do not want to hear the list because you know there is one.”
He looked away.
I felt strangely calm.
Then I said,
“I want you to sleep in the guest room.”
His eyes widened.
“What?”
“Tonight.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
“This is my house too.”
“I didn’t say leave.”
“I said sleep somewhere else.”
“You’re punishing me.”
“No.”
“I don’t want you beside me tonight.”
He stared at me.
Then whispered,
“Over a joke.”
I closed my eyes.
Still.
Still the joke.
I said,
“Goodnight.”
Then walked upstairs.
I locked the bedroom door.
That was the first night.
Page 2
The next morning, Richard behaved as if nothing had happened.
Coffee.
Toast.
Phone.
He asked,
“Do we need diapers?”
I looked at him.
“You’re not going to apologize?”
He sighed.
“Claire.”
I waited.
He rubbed his face.
“I’m sorry you got embarrassed.”
I stared.
“No.”
“What?”
“That is not an apology.”
His face hardened.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I’m sorry I humiliated you.”
“I’m sorry I took something private and showed everyone.”
“I’m sorry I made fun of a medical problem.”
He stared.
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