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Chapter 5
“Trust is like a pencil—when the edge breaks, you can sharpen it again. But once there’s nothing left to sharpen, you either lose everything… or choose to keep trusting.”
I remember that evening clearly. I walked into the house and yelled, “Babs! Where were you today?”
She looked up from the laundry basket. “Darling, I’ve been home all day. Doing your laundry.”
I didn’t believe her. My voice rose. “Are you lying to me right now?”
Her eyes widened. “For Christ’s sake, Clyde! Have I ever lied to you? Where is this coming from?”
“I saw you.” My tone sharpened. “At Mr. Biggs. With him—Dr. Livie. Your gynecologist.”
Her mouth opened slightly, but I didn’t let her speak.
“How many times have I told you? Not to see him again—not as a friend, not even as your doctor!”
“Answer me, Babs. Come here!”
I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her close to my face.
She winced.
“Clyde, you’re hurting me!”
“And I told you—I wasn’t out today! I haven’t seen Livie in weeks. Ask Mrs. Ibe next door. She was outside too—she saw me doing the laundry!”
I scoffed.
“Oh, so now it’s Livie? You’re all on first-name basis now?”
She stepped back, her voice trembling—half anger, half heartbreak.
“You’re lashing out for no reason. Call Livie. Ask him when he last saw me. Clyde, what part of I love you and you’re my husband do you not understand?”
She paused, breathing heavily. Her words slowed down, thick with pain.
“Every day it’s a new accusation. You changed my number. You’ve isolated me. This… this isn’t just about Livie anymore, is it?”
“Whatever it is, when you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here. But for now—do whatever pleases you.”
She looked at me—no longer pleading. Just… done.
And still, deep down, I knew she was telling the truth. I could feel it in her voice, in the quiet resignation of someone who loved too hard and for too long.
“I’m still in love with my husband,” I remember overhearing her say on the phone once.
“But his silence, his jealousy—it feels like he’s slipping away from me.”
Those words kept ringing in my head the whole time we were arguing. Then and there, it dawned on me—maybe I was the one unraveling.
We kept arguing, voices colliding. I didn’t eat that night. I stormed off and locked myself in the guest room.
And I stayed there… For a whole week.
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