My Husband Insisted on Sleeping in a Separate Hotel Room on Our 20th Anniversary Trip – I Cried When I Learned the Real Reason
I sat on the edge of the huge bed and thought about my short hair, the scars, the loose skin, and the body I still struggled to recognize. Maybe the months of being my caregiver had destroyed whatever romantic feelings Jeffrey once had for me.
Around nine, he knocked on my door.
“Want to get dinner?”
When I opened it, he was wearing another oversized shirt buttoned high around his neck.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Do I?”
We ate downstairs, but Jeffrey talked about everything except the second hotel room.
By the time dessert arrived, I couldn’t stand pretending.
“I’m tired. I’m going upstairs.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Don’t.”
I returned alone, crawled beneath the blanket, and cried into the pillow.
I became convinced our marriage was ending.
At 11:30, someone knocked.
Jeffrey stood outside with red eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Finally admitting you can’t stand looking at me?”
His expression changed instantly.
“What?”
“Just tell me the truth. I saw your face when you looked at that bed. I know I’m not the woman you married anymore.”
Jeffrey stepped inside and quietly locked the door behind him.
“I didn’t get another room because I didn’t want to be with you.”
“Then why? Is it because I lost my hair? Because of the scars?”
“Stop.”
His voice shook.
“Please stop talking about yourself like that.
