The last anniversary

Our anniversary occurred right after the voting day incident.

Nemo's parents invited us out to dinner. Nemo and I had a big argument before we left the house. It was the same old argument about him going out and me being home alone and pregnant. I cried on the way to the restaurant. I was in the middle of the gut wrenching agony of acceptance that my marriage was ending and I could barely keep my emotions in check.

I had thought that it would just be the four of us for dinner. But when we got to the restaurant, Jabba and Cruella had invited another couple (who I liked a lot) and their newly married son and newly pregnant wife (who I was meeting for the first time).

After five minutes of small talk, I couldn't keep myself together, so I excused myself and went to the bathroom. Where I cried for ten minutes. Or I should say, I hyperventilated quietly in the corner stall for ten minutes. I was absent from the table for a long time. It took me some time to regain my composure. I thought about running from the restaurant. I could see myself sneaking out into the cold fall night air, but good manners forced me to stay.

Good manners forced me to tolerate a whole lot of things that I shouldn't have.

I finally returned to the table. No one said a word to me about why or how long I was gone. No one commented on how red my nose was or how bloodshot my eyes were.

The topics of marriage and babies were the only things covered that night. Nemo squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. He took a dozen phone calls. Played with his phone even more than that text messaging. Now I know that it was Elvira, but at the time he'd rattle off some friend's name - oh it's George wanting to know something about the ballet, or some other nonsense.

I tried to hold up my part of the conversation. Let me tell you how difficult it is to be talking about marriage and babies when your marriage is falling apart and no one knows, and your baby is almost due, but was conceived with a lot of effort and he's not really your husband's, and your husband's not acting happy at all about the baby. It was torture. And I'm a diabetic, I know torture.

There was a part of me that was relieved when we finally left. The other part of me knew that when we'd leave, I'd lose track of Nemo for however long he'd be gone. It was close to midnight when we got home. I begged him again to stay, it was our anniversary for God's sake. He left me home alone. And he had the gall to say that it was officially the next day, our anniversary was over.

I slept alone in our marital bed.