Part 3
I went down the stairs slowly, until I got to the kitchen, where I started to make coffee like it was just any morning. When my husband came down, half an hour later, yawning, he asked me naturally:
“Did you sleep well?”
I didn’t respond immediately. I poured him the coffee and sat in front of him.
“I gave up our wedding bed last night without you asking me with respect. I did it because I didn’t want to start this with a conflict. But I want you to understand something: I’m not going to do it again.
He frowned, defensively right away. “It was just one night, it’s not that much. Astronomy
“It’s not about the bed,” I said. It is about you deciding, without consulting me, that my comfort was less than avoiding discomfort to your mother. On our wedding night. And you didn’t say a word when you saw me take the pillow to the couch.
He kept quiet. I didn’t have a good answer, because there wasn’t one.
“I’m not asking you to choose between her and me,” I continued. I’m asking you to think about me first next time, even once.
