“What? I thought your wife was in India and somebody told you about it or took a photo or video of her with this other man” Ezra turned to face the man head on as he sat down. “No, no. I mean, she was in India, I,” He paused, because he hadn’t had time to think about why she was in the states. “I don’t actually know why she’s here.” He thought out loud. He knew in his head that she was an actress, but the dots didn’t connect. And he knew for sure he wouldn’t dox her by telling this stranger who she was.
“Are you telling me that your wife, who felt abandoned by you when you left her in India, traveled to America to see you and then kissed another man while you were around?” Ezra, lips still pressed together in a grimace, answered honestly. “Yes.”[/center] Ezra winced, “well, semi yes. I don’t,” he cleared his throat, voice lowering. “I don’t think she’s here for me.”
Ezra’s mind felt like a foggy landscape, thoughts drifting without direction. The way the man laid it out struck a chord, though, it was the kind of angle Ezra had avoided, the uncomfortable truth hidden beneath layers of hurt pride and jealousy. “Self-sabotage,” Ezra echoed, rolling the term around in his mouth as if it were a foreign word. What a convenient label for such inconceivable behavior. But she had packed her bags and flown back to the states without saying a word to him—was that really how a person ready to fight for their marriage would act? Yet here he was, sitting in front of a stranger, grappling with a situation that felt so hopelessly tangled. “Look, bud,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I left her in India because—because I am scared of commitment. Or… scared of something like it. And I thought… I thought giving her space was what she needed.” The sudden realization that he had severed that connection with her caused a wave of panic to wash over him. So, he waved over the bartender.
@LunaticLeviTheSecond | Lysander