P has been giving me the silent treatment, and I don't know what's going to happen next. He must be getting a sick kind of thrill out of all of this.
Let me explain. Yesterday, P, Derek and I visited the house where I grew up to help celebrate my mother's birthday. I have been on edge for a while about this, because P has not informed me of his plans regarding the divorce that he is determined to get--he just told me that he wanted one, and has not said another word about it since Saturday night. I had tried my best to find out what he had planned before we took this one hour trip together, but I guess that he'd rather see me squirm.
So, in other words, I didn't know if or when he was going to stand up and announce to my side of the family that I was a lying, cheating whore. Was it going to be while my mother cut her birthday cake, or while she was opening her presents? A usually happy occasion was miserable. Reunion with aunts, uncles and my sister were tarnished by the fact that at any moment, P could drop the bomb to blow up my family's happiness. Every time he opened his mouth, I held my breath. He knew that I was afraid of what he might say, and took pleasure in the torture that it caused. Revenge must feel so sweet.
I didn't truly know that I was in the clear until we were in the van, driving home. I could finally breathe after such a harrowing day. I wanted to cry, but did not want to give him that satisfaction. The ride home was as silent as the ride there. For once, I didn't want to talk, and didn't wait for P to give me that "get lost" look once Derek fell asleep. I just wanted to get away from him.
Once I walked into T's house, I headed straight for the kitchen--didn't even say hi to T as I passed him sitting in the living room. I opened the fridge, stole a bottle of beer, opened it and seemed to suck it down in two seconds. I needed it so badly, and a beer never tasted so good.
"Is there a problem?" T asked.
I rolled my eyes, sighed, and then spent the rest of the evening venting about the day. Today, I returned to more silence, and more pretending to be the perfect wife at church, then the social afterwards. At night, once Derek was asleep, I was kicked out again. I don't know how much more of this I can take.
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