The conversation that ended my marriage started over dinner on a Tuesday night. Angela had picked a small restaurant near the marina. We had been married for 7 years, and lately dinners together felt more like meetings between two people trying not to argue. She barely touched her food. I noticed her checking her phone twice before the appetizers arrived.
The third time, I put my glass down. "Is somebody waiting on you?" She looked up. What?
Your phone. You've checked it three times in 10 minutes. Angela gave me a tired look. "Can we just have dinner without you analyzing everything?" "I'm not analyzing anything."
"I'm asking a question." She leaned back. Fine. It's nothing.
I nodded once. "Then put it away." Her expression changed immediately. "You don't get to tell me what to do." I looked at her for a second.
"And you don't get to act like basic respect is oppression." That shut her up. For a moment neither of us spoke. The restaurant was crowded, but our table felt completely separate from everyone else.
Then Angela folded her napkin and looked directly at me. "Actually, there's something I want to talk about." "Go ahead." She took a breath. "My birthday is next month."
"I know." "I've been thinking about what I want." I waited. Then she said it. "I want a night with another man as a gift for my birthday."
I didn't move. "Say that again." Angela held my eyes. "I want one night with another man." "You want to sleep with another man."
"Don't make it sound dirty." I almost laughed. "Angela, there's no cleaner way to say it." She crossed her arms. "I'm being honest with you."
"No, you're making a request." "Same thing." "No, it isn't." Her jaw tightened. "We've been unhappy, Tom."
"Being unhappy doesn't give you permission to sleep with someone else." I leaned forward. "Do you already have someone in mind?" She hesitated. That was enough.
"Who?" "It's not important." "Then there is someone." Angela looked toward the window. "His name is Jacob."
The name sat between us. "How long have you known him?" "A while." "How long?" "Tom, this isn't an interrogation."
You're asking your husband to give you another man for your birthday. You don't get to decide which questions are uncomfortable. Her face hardened. I thought you might try to understand me. I understand you perfectly.
She grabbed her purse. So, that's it? You're going to judge me? I stood up and reached for my wallet. No.
I placed enough cash on the table. I'm going to make a decision. She looked up at me. What decision? I picked up my jacket.
You'll find out. And I walked out before she could say another word. Angela didn't speak to me during the drive home. She sat beside me with her arms crossed, staring through the passenger window as if I were the one who had ruined dinner. When we reached the house, she walked inside first.
I followed and put my keys on the counter. She turned around. Are you really going to punish me because I was honest? I'm not punishing you. You walked out.