Chapter 2 Where Did I Go Wrong?

MADELINE

James slept soundly next to Madeline as she lay awake that night. She couldn’t sleep, not with her gut all twisted up.

After a while, she slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom, where she flicked on the light and stared at her reflection. Where had she gone wrong? She took in her waist length, strawberry blond hair — the length was because James always gushed that women with long hair were beautiful and she wanted to be just that for him — and the smattering of freckles across her cheeks and small button nose. Normally she covered the freckles, as smooth, flawless looking skin was important, but Madeline secretly loved those little dots. She always thought they gave her face character.

Her eyes were a dark brown and there was nothing she could do about them. Coloured contacts irritated her eyes, to the point she just couldn’t justify wearing any even though James still hinted to give them another shot every so often.

Physically she was fit — going to the gym and fitness classes nearly every day did that to a person — and always ate healthy to better maintain her figure. James preferred it that way and it wasn’t like she didn’t have the time. He worked long hours and, in exchange, asked that she take care of herself and their home. After she finished what was needed to keep their home life comfortable she could pursue her own interested but there was neither enough time or space to do so.

A few years ago they’d downsized — just a tiny bit — to better save money, which meant she didn’t have the room to spread out. And James hated mess. Setting her easel and paints up in the living room, only to put it all away before he got home each and every day didn’t feel worth the hassle. Not to mention the supplies weren’t exactly cheap. No, she wouldn’t be selfish. As a compromise, she focused on sketching, even if that was now a rare occurrence. Very little inspired her lately.

At least with the promotion he’d gotten things were sure to change and she’d been looking forward to the future. They could find somewhere a bit bigger so she could get back into painting, start a family…

Madeline leaned in close to the mirror as she ran a finger over her cheeks and nose, tracing the freckles she so loved and James didn’t. The thought that she had changed herself for him had never bothered her much, as he had never asked her to; it had been her choice and she’d do anything to keep him happy.

She still would. It was why she’d agreed to his request to open their relationship.

Except… it didn’t make it hurt any less.

A failure. She felt like an absolute failure.

“Where did I go wrong?,” she whispered at her reflection, finger tips pressing against the mirror. “Where?”

No answer came from the reflection, not that she’d expected any.

Madeline returned to bed soon after, curling up and wishing James enjoyed cuddling. If he’d hold her for a while she was certain she’d feel better about things.

At six she woke up, as per usual. Her body had long since acclimated to rising early to the point she didn’t need an alarm. Slipping out of bed, she grabbed the clothes she’d set out, taking them with her to the bathroom.

She had her routine down to a science. A quick shower, followed by covering those pesky freckles. Then she made her way to the kitchen to start her day. The coffee pot was turned on and breakfast was made from scratch. Today was waffles. They only took about twenty minutes, so Madeline busied herself chopping fruits and setting the table.

At seven she heard the shower start, which was her signal to finalize breakfast. By the time James stepped into the kitchen, breakfast was on the table with everything he needed set out within arms’ reach.

“Smells amazing,” he told Madeline, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before taking his seat and digging in. He didn’t touch the fruit she’d prepared, even though every time she’d forgone any he’d ask where it was, that he’d wanted some. It was the only time he ever took any; Madeline had adapted and learned to lie. Whenever he asked if she’d already eaten, she said yes. The truth was she waited until he left for work before partaking in the fruit he neglected — that was her breakfast.

This little quirk of his had been frustrating at first but, now that she’d found a workaround, she found it was rather cute. He had no idea it was even a thing and that was amusing.

James left by quarter to eight. After eating her own breakfast and cleaning everything up, Madeline was off to the gym. Exercise helped clear the troubles from her mind, at least until she finished up. After a quick shower to rinse off the sweat, Madeline was nearly out the door when the receptionist called out, “Hey, Ms Thatcher?”

Stopping, Madeline turned to look at the woman behind the desk, who beckoned for her to come closer. “Yes? Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” the woman, whose name was Emily, assured her with a small laugh. “I just wanted to tell you that a spot opened up in the class you’d asked about.”

“Oh, that’s great! Does that mean I can sign up for it?”

“That’s why I called you over,” Emily nodded. “The only problem is, it’s at the same time as your spin class…”

“That’s not a problem,” Madeline assured her with a grin. “I have no issue dropping spin.” She hated spin class. Cycling was fine, if you were outside and the hills were real. A stationary bike with someone else monologuing about the terrain? No, thank you.

“Great. I just need you to sign this form — it’s for the class you’ll be joining.”

Madeline did as requested without hesitation, though she did skim the document before signing. She hadn’t been born yesterday and knew better than to sign anything without first reading it over. “Thanks so much for this,” she told the receptionist.

“Not a problem! You have a good day; see you tomorrow.”

Madeline gave the other woman a wave as she left, feeling a bit better at the thought of never needing to get on another stationary bike ever again. Screw anyone who said spin was fun. They were out of their mind.

A block from the gym was a small coffee shop she always went to post workout. It helped Madeline relax, sitting back with a hot beverage to watch people stroll by just outside the shop. This normally took up a good hour of her day, which was fine. All she had to do was run some errands before heading home to complete the few chores on her list. With James getting back late every day, there was even less incentive to rush through her routine.

“Hey Madeline,” the lady, who always seemed to be working when Madeline came in, greeted her with a bright smile. “What’ll it be today?”

“Just black coffee, please,” she replied, returning the smile with one of her own.

“Okie doke! Coming right up.”

It didn’t take long before she was handed her drink. The mug was one they always seemed to use for her order; it had a checkered pattern, where the squares were mismatched and each a different, vibrant colour. Madeline absolutely loved it. If it had been for sale she would have snatched it up immediately.

Wandering over to her usual spot, Madeline was soon focused on the people wandering outside. Her seat had the best view out the front window, where foot traffic never stopped. The endless flow of unique individuals, each about their daily lives, always helped Madeline feel less alone in the world.

James had laughed when she’d explained her joy of people watching. To see the different expressions on their faces when they weren’t paying attention, the clothes they wore, how they walked, their posture… People were an endless source of fascination to Madeline. Everyone was so unique in their own way and looking for those little details could easily keep her busy for hours.

Today, however, was different. She couldn’t focus on the swarms of people who walked by. Her mind was stuck on what James had asked of her the night before; on what she’d agreed. Did it make her selfish, if she now regretted her decision? She didn’t want to share him with anyone, in any sense, and she’d been under the impression that he’d felt the same.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Madeline tried not to think about some other woman touching him or, worse, him touching another woman. It made her want to cry but her eyes were oddly dry. A single tear had yet to be shed.

“Is this seat taken?,” a pleasant voice asked, drawing Madeline out of the thoughts that were causing her so much trouble.

She turned to look at the man who’d spoken and gave him a small but polite smile. “No, it’s not.”

“Mind if I sit?”

She blinked, startled. Madeline had thought he’d wanted to take the chair and join another table, not sit down at hers. Not that it mattered.

“There’s not many seats left,” he chuckled, as if he’d noticed her surprise, and gestured at how crowded the place had become. There were, indeed, very few empty seats.

“I don’t mind,” she assured him, feeling awkward at how she’d frozen for a moment. As he settled down, she returned to gazing out the window, wondering why of all places he’d chosen to sit at her table — even with the place so full of people.