Jumping into Conclusions

Can you please let go of my hand? I’m not in the mood to pretend everything’s fine.

I’m just trying to keep things calm. Maybe we could both try that today.

Keep things calm? You mean act like nothing’s wrong? Because holding hands doesn’t feel calm at all right now.

Don’t make such a big deal out of it. There’s nothing going on. You always read something into everything. We’re not doing this now. Not at my parents’ party.

I read something into everything? I heard you last night.

Whatever you think you heard, we’re not having this conversation now. We’re here for a party. Let’s keep it that way. It’s not that hard.

Let go of my hand. You’re squeezing it.

I’m not. You’re exaggerating.

So now I’m making it up.

No. You’re turning it into something it’s not. You can turn nothing into a problem.

You’re not taking me seriously. As usual.

We’re holding hands. As usual. I’m trying to be polite.

That’s exactly what irritates me. You call this polite.

What’s the problem? We’re holding hands. Seriously.

You’re acting like nothing happened yesterday. You’re dodging it. Like always.

I have no idea what you think you heard. You stormed off to the guest room and locked the door. Childish. You didn’t say a word all day. Until now, unfortunately.

So you really want to play the perfect couple? Keep up appearances? After what blew up in my face yesterday?

What blew up? See, this is what I mean. Always drama. Always metaphors. Why can’t you just say what you mean?

Because with you there’s always something going on underneath. Don’t pretend yesterday meant nothing.

Yesterday? About what? Oh, come on. Are you really starting a fight now?

You know exactly what I’m talking about. Stop dodging it.

Lower your voice. People are staring. We’ll talk about it at home.

Yeah, sure. At home you never listen. You just shut me out. Like that time with your colleague. Remember? The one with the high heels. You kept denying it. And in the end I was right. You lied and you—

I wouldn’t finish that sentence. Not here.

So you’re ashamed of me?

That’s what you immediately turn it into. I don’t want this to spiral out of control at my parents’ anniversary.

So you think I’m losing it?

I think we can behave like adults and talk this through later, in private. There will be plenty of time after the party to wallow in it.

That’s exactly what I mean. What is that even supposed to mean?

Stop. I’m asking you one last time. My mother is standing right behind us. I’ll get drinks. You go to the bathroom. Or count to ten. Or to a hundred. Whatever it takes. Don’t come back until you’ve calmed down.

Say that again? I hate that patronizing tone. I’ll come back when I feel like it.

Stop threatening all the time. Your suspicion is getting ridiculous.

What did you just say? You keep denying the truth. And this isn’t the first time.

What kind of whisky is this? Don’t they even have Johnnie Walker Black Label?

Do you ever get tired of complaining? Nothing is ever good enough for you.

I’m exhausted, actually. Thanks for asking. And there’s always something to complain about, because you either do nothing or you do everything wrong.

I’m ending this conversation here. It’s ruining the evening. You want me to listen? Fine. I’m listening. Anything to avoid a scene.

And there you go again. So now you think I’m about to cause a scene? I want to talk about this now. Here you can’t ignore me. Because if you do, your prediction comes true.

More empty threats. I’m listening.

This is how you always talk when you’re angry. You know exactly what this is about.

Where is this even going? I hope home and straight to bed. But that’s probably wishful thinking.

So now I’m crazy? Fine. I’ll speak up. I heard you on the phone yesterday.

Shh. I don’t know what you’re talking about. You mean when I was on the phone with my mother?

No, not that call. You keep circling around it. Fine. I’ll be very clear. You talked about a broken marriage. And then divorce. The second call was to a doctor, I think. I caught fragments like “genital” and “chang—”

Do you have any idea what people must think? Everyone’s staring at us. You know I love you, but this constant drama is wearing me down.

There’s a lot more that’s going to wear you down if you’re not honest right now.

This argument is completely inappropriate. So you’re going to stop talking now. I’m taking you home. You’re clearly not thinking straight. We both know where this leads.

Why are you driving like this? And why aren’t you saying anything?

What is there to say? Do you have any idea what you just did in front of my parents?

That’s not my fault. You never listen and you avoid everything about our relationship. If you’d just answered me, none of this would have happened.

Answered what? What did I possibly say on the phone that has you spiraling again?

I know what I heard. You probably would have told me once everything was settled.

Settled how?

Our divorce. And your sex change.

What did you just say?

Our divorce. And my sex change?

You’ve completely lost it. I can’t believe this. Why do you always jump to conclusions? You have no idea how wrong you are.

I wouldn’t have to jump if you didn’t ignore me and lie to me.

Honestly, I don’t even feel like explaining those calls anymore. It doesn’t matter what I say. You believe whatever suits you.

Easy for you. I tell you what I heard and you retreat into your shell.

A shell? You’re accusing me of planning a divorce and a sex change. Say it again. Out loud. Maybe then you’ll hear how absurd it sounds. Me? A sex change? You know me better than that. Or at least you should.

Just answer me already.

Fine. I hope this finally ends it. I called a divorce lawyer for Frank. Our friend Frank. He wants to leave his marriage but doesn’t dare take the step. I asked for information for him. For him. And after today, I’m starting to think I might as well have asked for us.

What… what are you saying? Divorce? You and me?

That’s what you heard, right? Then let’s just go with it.

No, that’s not what I meant—

You always say that. You make a huge mess and then calmly say you didn’t mean it.

I just— you talk so little. Sometimes I feel so—

Alone? Are we really opening that box again? I’m not done explaining my phone calls yet. I have to justify who I call and why. That’s insane. But fine. Here it is.

Please stop being angry. I shouldn’t have been so suspicious. And I shouldn’t have brought this up tonight.

Listen carefully. The word you overheard that started with “genital”? The one you decided must end in “change”? There’s another word that fits just as well.

Sexually transmitted disease.

And now you’re quiet. Lost your voice? Can you picture how this goes from here? Just look away. You and your so-called honesty. Hypocritical bitch.

You almost never swear. Why are you calling me that?

Because our GP called to tell me I have an STD. What do you have to say to that?

I— I don’t understand. Maybe the results were mixed up—

Feeling cornered? Where did all those confident accusations go? Swallowed? Along with your tongue? I’ve had exactly one sexual partner since the day we got married. So I couldn’t have caught it somewhere else. Now it’s your turn to explain how I got it.

Do you think we could maybe— why aren’t you saying anything anymore?

You hate it when I go quiet? Too bad. I’m done talking. You wanted answers. You have them. Happy now? I’m done wasting words on you.

But I— I can explain—

Listen. It’s not what you—

I’m not listening anymore. Be quiet. Leave me alone.