That whole afternoon, John acted as though we weren’t there. He had work that evening so he eventually packed up his equipment and left. I thought at that point that I would never speak to him again.
I didn’t know what time he got in that night – I just remember him being there, in the bed in the morning. I got up and went to the bathroom. By the time I’d come out, the children were up and as I passed the bedroom I saw my youngest daughter was in there with her dad. He was sat on the edge of the bed with his head hung low. She was about to put her arm around him. I kept walking.
My eldest was finishing her breakfast. I started getting my son dressed as my daughter walked into the room and proudly announced that ‘daddy has apologised and he’s going to apologise to you and you’ – she pointed at me and her sister. I told her to get ready for church.
John entered the room and made his apology to our eldest. She accepted. They hugged. I didn’t see any of this as I was changing my son’s nappy (that and I refused to turn around). I could feel John standing there – waiting for me to finish.
I set our son down off the sofa and he ran off to play. I got up but John was blocking my path.
“Ana, I am so sorry. I am mortified by my behaviour.”
I said nothing.
We stood for a moment looking at each other. Then my eldest piped up “Mummy, don’t you forgive Daddy?”
My response was ‘Go and get ready’ as I stepped past John.
I wasn’t interested in yet another apology.
That was the last straw for me. In my head, it was over and I needed to plan my exit.
It’s funny, but I have always had this fear at the back of my mind that John would one day hit me. My rational self said ‘don’t be silly’ but then he would get so angry at times that it scared me. I had no idea what he was capable of. Now, a push is not major in the big scheme of things – I know many have been through and are going through much worse. But it was unexpected.
It was also completely unacceptable.
We tell our children not to hit/push other children just because they’re angry. We tell them to use their words. So adults should surely know better, right?
We didn’t speak for days. I eventually said to him that I wasn’t ‘not speaking to him.’ I was just completely stunned and didn’t know what to say. He apologised again but was more flippant about it now:
“I get it and I’m sorry – if I could take it back, I would. But I can’t.”
It would take a few more months for me to pluck up the courage but the writing was on the wall.
Our marriage was over.
This Can't Be Love 