Page 85 of Brain Damage

I don’t know what he’s getting at. I’m going to be living in my old apartment, right? Isn’t that the whole point?

“The thing is,” Clark says, “Natalie says that you should have a hospital bed at home. So I was thinking maybe we could put the hospital bed in our spare bedroom, and you would sleep in there.”

“And where would you sleep?” I ask.

“Well, in the master bedroom,” Clark says.

Excuse me? That apartment is mine. I owned it before Clark came along. If anyone should get the master bedroom, it should be me.

“I might need more room for my equipment,” I say carefully. I don’t want to let on how incredibly angry I am. It seems like if I ask for anything, Clark threatens to abandon me.

“There’s plenty of room for that in the spare bedroom,” Clark says. “And I’m going to need more room because both Haley and I will be staying there.”

What?

I manage to say, “What?”

“Charlotte,” Clark says, shaking his head. “You said you were okay with me continuing my relationship with Haley. That’s part of our arrangement.”

“I didn’t know she was going to be living with us…”

Clark shrugs. “What’s the difference to you? We’ll tell people she’s your nurse. Actually, I was looking into it, and we could arrange for your insurance to pay her a small salary to be your home health aide.”

No. No. I don’t want this. I don’t want my husband’s girlfriend having any part in my care. And I certainly don’t want her sleeping in my bedroom.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I say.

“Be reasonable, Charlotte,” Clark says with a frown. When he looks at me like that, his cheeks seem really hollow and his Pacific blue eyes seem almost evil. I can’t believe I ever thought he was attractive. “Look how much I’m doing for you. Would you really be so bothered by Haley staying with us? You probably won’t even notice.”

I feel tears pricking at my eyes. I’m afraid to say anything else because I don’t want him to see me cry.

Maybe Clark notices that I’m really upset, because he says, “We’ll talk about it later.”

We’ll talk about it later. That’s exactly what my mother used to tell me when I was a teenager and she knew that I wasn’t going to get my way.

It’s obvious that I don’t have any choice about this woman living in my home. What can I do about it? Nothing. I’m just going to have to learn to deal with it. Like everything else in my life.

It’s time for my Walking Group, so Clark takes me there. He doesn’t speak to me as he pushes me down the hallway. When we get to the group, he positions me next to Angela, then after a moment of hesitation, he pats me on the shoulder and waves goodbye.

Naturally, Angela notices that our goodbye was less than passionate. “Well,” she says. “He may be hot, but he’s a real cold fish.”

I turn away, not really wanting to get into a discussion about it.

“Doesn’t he ever kiss you?” she asks.

I’m embarrassed to tell anyone what Clark said to me yesterday, but at the same time, I feel like I have to talk to somebody. I can’t exactly tell my mother. And Angela is probably my best female friend here.

I lower my voice. “It’s not like that between us. Not anymore.”

Angela frowns. “Like what?”

“Like, he’s not interested in having that kind of relationship with me anymore.”

Angela’s mouth falls open slightly to reveal her cigarettes-stained bottom teeth. “Did he say that?”

I nod.

Angela punches the armrest of her chair. “Are you serious? That asshole really said that to you?”