“I thought that was what you wanted.”
“I wanted you to ask why I felt alone.”
She looked down.
“That night, I took off my ring.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Every time I tried telling you something hurt, you explained why it shouldn’t.”
“Claire, I didn’t realize—”
“I know.”
Two words. Somehow worse than shouting.
“I know you didn’t realize.”
She glanced at the shelves.
“I’ve listened to women tell me how they spent years making excuses for their marriages.”
I looked away.
“Some were being abused. Some were simply unhappy. Their situations weren’t all the same.”
She took a breath.
“I kept thinking our marriage was different.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Yes, Archie. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy.”
The basement seemed smaller.
“I don’t think you’re a bad man. But I’m tired of proving I’m hurting before you start caring.”
I looked at the ring.
“Have you decided?”
“No.”
“Then why put it there?”
