You Can’t Have Your Cake

You’d think a girl like me would know a thing or two about failed relationships by now. Yet, here I am one divorce and three failed engagements later and I’m in another situation where the ground is opening beneath me and I’m falling into the blazing inferno of heartbreak all over again. Things started out great, and I could feel that he wouldn’t be like anyone or anything I’d experienced before. He was different. He was good. He is good, but good isn’t always enough for a girl like me.

We first met in a chance encounter on a flight to Seattle. He was storing his overhead luggage just as I was making my way through the aisle to check on the passengers. I tried to speedily walk past and avoid any conversation whatsoever, but I was halted by the smell of a dirty diaper. Stopping in my tracks gave him just enough time to say the kindest thing a passenger’s ever said to me, “Hi.” I melted. With my heart now beating at 65 mph, I responded, “Hi, I’m Sasha!” I’m shocked that I was even able to utter English words, but now wasn’t the time to be a bumbling idiot. I had a job to do, so I pulled myself together and attended to the passengers, making sure to take special care of the guy in 34C

When the flight landed, 34C made his way to the front of the plane and asked to speak to me. I didn’t know what he wanted to talk about, but all I knew was that I wanted to hear that voice again. He pulled me to the side and asked if I’d be in town for awhile or if I would be working on another flight. “Lucky for you, this is the last flight on my schedule, and Seattle just so happens to be home.”, I told him. He asked to take me to dinner the next day and I accepted.

I still remember that first date like it was yesterday. From the moment he picked me up to the moment we were seated at our table. It felt like we were old friends catching up and exchanging stories of the daily drama in our lives. I told him all the joys of being a flight attendant and he painted beautiful pictures of his adventures as a traveling photographer. We laughed until we cried, we ate until we had to loosen our belts and for the first time in years, I felt myself climbing out of that bottomless pit I’d pithed my tent in. His presence brought me to life. Every word was a breath of fresh air and I knew that what I had in front of me was something I wanted to hold onto for as long as I could.

That was five years ago now. Today we’re married, we have a two year old with another on the way and by the looks of it our lives are perfect. We live in the house we want to live in, drive the cars we want to drive, we have a healthy family and honestly couldn’t ask for anything more. Marriage isn’t that simple though, and as someone who’s done this before, I knew one day we’d face our own set of trials and hardship. I just never thought this would be our breaking point.

We rarely argued or disagreed. Our home, for years, was a sanctuary of peace and love. Then, out of nowhere things changed. We went days without speaking to each other. When we did speak, we argued. When we argued, we went in circles. Finally we both came to our wits end. I suggested counseling and he... he suggested divorce. My heart sunk in my chest. I stood in front of him one night crying, “You know my past! You know what I’ve been through! How could you do this to me?” It took what little strength I had left to say those words. He saw the hurt in my eyes and heard the agony in my shaking voice. “Okay. Let’s try therapy.”, he replied.

“So that’s why we’re here. We’re here because I don’t want my marriage to end.”, I muttered to the therapist. Dr. Kyles listened to me as I poured my heart out and he also watched as my husband sat there with his head in his hands shaking it in disbelief. Greg looked up and asked “Doctor, would you like to hear why we’re really here?” Dr. Kyles nodded. My husband told his side of the story recounting what he calls “the moment that started it all” from the week prior.

“My wife is a spectacular woman!” My husband exclaimed. “She’s the best decision I’ve ever made, and I’ll never leave her. But, we’re here today because I’ve never felt so disrespected in my life.” I sat there in utter shock; not having the slightest clue what he was talking about. “My mother baked me a cake for my birthday.”, Greg continued. “Double chocolate crunch cake is her specialty and it’s my favorite. My wife, our son and I ravaged that cake until it was one slice left. I told my wife she and I would split it when I got home from shooting a client. I came in the house that night. My mouth was watering. I opened the refrigerator only to see there was no more cake.” At this point I had enough of Greg’s story. Maybe I had eaten the last slice of cake, but as a pregnant woman carrying his second child, I was entitled to it!

“Are you kidding me right now?”, me now yelling at the top of my lungs. “We both know how good that cake is and you were taking so long to get home.” Dr. Kyles stopped me, “Mrs. Minor have you considered that maybe your husband has a right to be upset?” And then... silence. We all sat there looking at each other. Greg was now wearing all of his emotions on his face and Dr. Kyles was undoubtedly writing something very judgmental about me in his notebook. So, I decided to break the silence. I stood up knowing that this would be the last thing I said in this room and I looked Greg in the eye and told him, “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

The End.