Going in Circles Read Online Free

have a dramatic moment without a comedic twist. I can’t be the only one who trips, spills, flops, and drops through all of her most important moments.
    I was still getting used to calling him my husband. My wedding gown was still hanging in my closet. I couldn’t getover the feeling that he would walk back through the door with that grin of his that took over half of his face, shaking his head, saying, “I can’t believe you
fell
for that!”
    Instead, what happened was one month later Matthew came back from what turned out to be a motel hideaway to announce that he’d changed his mind. He did want to be my husband after all.
    Ta-da! Who wants cake?
    I’m sure this is when “good wives” are supposed to leap into the arms of their spouses, covering them with kisses and gratitude. The woman has been deemed worthy, and that means the marriage will never, ever suffer any more strife. How lucky, friends would say, to have such a big test early on in the relationship. How common, family members would say, to have the relationship strained in its early years. How fantastic that we survived it, and of course Matthew would never really leave, and,
“Are we back on for Game Night on Thursday? Yay!”
    And at first I did celebrate. Who wouldn’t be relieved to find out she wasn’t being abandoned after all? I think it lasted about as long as a weekend. Two days of snuggling and nice dinners in restaurants as familiar to us as the feeling of our fingers intertwined. After that, I supposed we were expected to just go back to normal, but I didn’t know what normal was. In my defense, I didn’t know things weren’t normal to begin with. Following that logic, at any moment I could be left again.
    Matthew didn’t want to talk about what had made him leave. He said only that it had been a mistake, and that he was sorry. Over and over again he said that, like he’d read somewhere that it was the way to fix what he’d done. That’swhat I got for marrying a lawyer. He knew how to answer only the questions that would get him off easy. My cross-examinations were a complete failure.
    â€œDid you stop loving me?”
    â€œNo. I’m sorry.”
    The words were real. They were what people were supposed to say. But out of his mouth they seemed remorseless, mechanical. Computations devised to soothe me. It was like picking a fight with an ATM: you get only so many responses.
    â€œ NO. I’M SORRY .”
    â€œDid you want someone else?”
    â€œ I AM HERE NOW. THAT IS NOT IMPORTANT .”
    â€œDo you think you might change your mind again?”
    â€œ I WANT TO BE HERE. LET’S LOOK FORWARD. WOULD YOU LIKE AN ACCOUNT BALANCE ?”
    At night Matthew would be happily snoring beside me, but I’d be spinning with panic, my eyes raw like sandpaper from staring at the ceiling, as I wondered
why, why, why.
    Why did he go? And why did he come back?
    The only way I can sufficiently explain what happened next is to say that I cracked. I cracked right in half.
    Yes, he wants me.
    No, he doesn’t.
    I felt both of those thoughts, and I felt them both equally. Relief and anger. Security and panic.
    He wants you now.
    Yeah, but he didn’t.
    One night I couldn’t take the wondering anymore. He was asleep next to me, happy like everything was fine, and all I knew was that somehow it wasn’t. “Hey,” I said, pushing him to the point of an actual shove. It wasn’t nice, but I wasn’t completely in control of myself.
    He rolled toward me, opening a groggy eye. “You okay?” he asked. “Bad dream?”
    I could have curled up into the crook of his arm, snuggled my cheek against his warm skin, and thanked him for being there for me when I needed him. Thanked him again for coming home to me. I could have slid my foot between his calves and called him my Snugglebutt. I could have rewarded him for coming home, for being in