Break Week: 1, Sangfroid
Ethan hit me last night. Wait. No. That's not what happened. Not exactly anyway. He shoved me onto our bed. And not in a playful or sexual way.
Let me back up. I'm going to start from the beginning. Ethan is coming off looking like a monster, and that's not really how it was.
It started yesterday morning, at brunch with his family. His sister, Gina, made a comment about my weight. I know. It's not the first time. Doesn't make it hurt any less. I tried to brush it off, as I've become so good at doing. No use causing a scene in the restaurant because my sister-in-law is a bitch.
I kept quiet, but I was hoping someone would reprimand Gina. And when I say "someone," I of course mean Ethan. No such luck.
It's not a matter of him not wanting to be forced to choose a side between his wife and sister. Last time she made a remark--"Oh, Heather, that's a lovely sweater. It's surprising someone your size can pull that off."--Ethan was so pissed when I told him about it, that he promised he would confront her if she spoke to me like that again.
Yeah. So that's what sparked our argument last night. We probably would have had the argument sooner, but I gave Ethan the benefit of the doubt. I figured he talked to her when I left the table to yell in the Ladies Room. You know, he didn't want to embarrass me more by bringing up the remark in front of me.
But, six or seven hours later when there was no verbal or text apology from Gina, I was pretty sure Ethan didn't say anything to her.
To be sure though, I brought it up.
***Now the following dialogue is pretty much accurate. But since it happened last night, some words may be omitted or added. It's not done purposely. This is my diary, after all. I'm not trying to impress anyone.***
Me: Hey, Babe, what did Gina say when you confronted her?
Him: What? About what?
Me [still calm, for now]: Her remark to me at brunch. About going up to the buffet more than once.
Him [shrug]: I didn't say anything to her about that.
Me [slightly annoyed]: Why not? You said you would talk to her if she continued to talk like that to me.
Him: Why don't you say something to her? You're a big girl.
Me [pissed, offended]: What the fuck? Is that a fucking weight joke?
Him [slightly defensive]: Jesus, Heather. No! You know what I mean. You're an adult. You can fight your own battles.
Me: I tried fighting this battle before. I've straight up told her a few times that I don't appreciate her speaking to me the way she does.
Him: ::Sigh::
Me: Whatever. [Oh yeah. I busted out the whatever.]. I'm going to call that cunt and tell her to leave me the fuck alone.
Him [Angry]: Don't call my sister a cunt.
Me [Angrier]: Why not? She's a fucking cunt. You want me to handle it myself? Are you afraid of your cunty sister?
And that's when he pushed me. Well, he called me a bitch first, and then pushed me.
I guess we pushed each other. Mine was verbal, his was physical.
So, he pushed me, and I fell back onto the bed. I think I laid there for a few seconds. In that time, I don't know what happened, but when I sat up, my mood was completely different. I was no longer angry or combative. I was calm. I was self-possessed.
I stood up, looked Ethan directly in the eye, and said, "You are never going to put your hands on me like that again. If you do, I will call the police and file for divorce. For now, you are sleeping on the couch until I decide we can share a bed."
I think my composure shocked him. I mean, I spoke as if I was telling him what was for dinner.
He apologized quite a bit. I'm fairly certain he feels horrible. As he should.
He needs to keep his guard up, though. I may have been "cool, calm, and collected" last night, but he is due a kick in the balls now.