I'm Sorry
A Vignette of Rebecca

By Kasey

I keep having a conversation in my head.  A simple little conversation, explaining, justifying what I did.  And the person I'm talking to always answers with the same thing:  "It's okay, Rebecca.  I'm not mad at you."

If only that would be the case in real life.  I know if I were to explain it to Dan, he'd still be just as hurt.  And who can blame him?  After what I did to him, I'd be amazed if he ever spoke to me.  After all, I sort of lied ot him, not telling him that I was only separated.  I didn't say we were divorced, I just let him go on thinking that.  From my position, I figured I would never see Steve again, and if I did, I certainly wouldn't be married to him when I did.

But I was wrong.  Boy, was I wrong.  He came by my office on that Saturday and started off the meeting by swinging his legs on top of my desk, all over the papers I wa working with.  he grinned his grin, the arrogant one that I once fell in love with, but learned to hate soon enough.  The look of defiant bull-headedness that says "I'm going to get my way, of course."  From the second he showed me that grin, I knew he'd win.  I'd always been too afraid to defy him before, why wouldn't I be anymore?

So I agreed to go into counseling with him.  And I agreed to get back together with him.  And I agreed to break it off with dan because of him.

I should've said no.  I should've refused it all.  But that's not how it was for us.  Our relationship was a very old-fashioned one:  the husband dictates, the wife obeys.  I'd always been too weak and intimidated by him to do otherwise.  So I could only do what he said.

I walked up to Dan's floor with heavy feet, hoping he'd already be on the air when I got there, that I could wait the hour to come up with a gentle way of breaking his heart.  When I got there, it was three minutes to air, and Jeremy insisted I see him before the show.  So I did.  I broke up with him.  And I hated every minute of it, just as much as he did. 

He looked so sad, his puppy-dog face wounded, looking as hurt as though I'd just shot an arrow through his chest.  In a way, I guess I had.  I know how much he loved me, and I loved him as much, but I'd made a commitment to Steve two and a half years before when i'd married him.  I couldn't just ignore that.

You do some things becaue the alternative is worse than the solution you have.  As was the case with my marriage to Steve.  I could go back to him, have things go back to how they were, or I could stay with Dan and have to always dodge Steve, who would inevitably be back to try and coerce me back to him again.  And if I refused, I knew he wouldn't be so nice.  His temper would get the better of him, and he would use his force and size to get his way.  So I guess I figured that, if I didn't make him mad, maybe he wouldn't hurt me anymore. With words or with fists.  And what would make him madder than not agreeing with him on the most important thing to him?  He married me because he wanted more property.  More people who would listen to him.  More than just his inferiors at work.  Someone who had to do what he said.

Most people would be out of the marriage by now, if they were naive enough to get into the predicament in the first place.  But I guess it's just how I was taught:  Marriage is forever, and nothing the person does will change that.  You made a choice, and now you have to pay the consequences.