Thursday evening, Adam text me that he was dropping something our friend needed off at his house and then would be heading home. An hour later, I text him and asked if he was heading home yet? Nothing. I sent 2 more texts with no response and finally called his phone. It went to voicemail. I called Biscuit and he answered. I asked him if Adam had been there yet? Adam got on the phone and teased me by saying “no”, but I recognized his voice and I told him “you bastard!” About five minutes passed and my phone started to ring. It was Adam, calling from his phone. I hit the ignore button. He text me that wasn’t nice. I waited exactly twenty minutes before I replied. We had a bit of back and forth.
I guess Biscuit got to talking and Adam had left his phone in his truck. Still!!! If I’d done that exact same thing to him, he would be upset with me. Truth be told, I was upset. I wasn’t so angry that I had lost complete control of my temper or anything, though. I decided I was going to “push it” a little bit. Just to see. He knew he’d done screwed up. How far can I take this, I wondered?
When Adam finally came in the door, it was after 7:00pm. The kids and I had already finished supper. I left it out for him and he fixed himself a plate. I could tell he was feeling guilty. He didn’t walk in with that typical confidence he carries when he knows he’s right. I walked over to him and put my hands on my hips while I lectured him about making me worry that something had happened. Ever since that day his phone got smashed, I’ve had a panic rise up inside of me when I know he should be able to respond. I expected him home long before he made it in. I wouldn’t have been upset had he just brought his phone with him, answered me, and explained that Biscuit was asking for his help fixing a car he’s working on. Adam admitted that he should’ve watched the time and known I’d be starting to worry. He admitted he should’ve had his phone on him and let me know. Then, he lectured me for ignoring him and for refusing to say I love you back to him. He went into our bedroom and came back out carrying the belt in his hand. The kids were outside playing. Jackie wasn’t home. It was just us in the living room. I argued that wasn’t fair! He handed it to me and told me to “give it my best shot” and then it was his turn. I swung and smacked him across his butt as hard as I could. I get no satisfaction, though. He never even winces. He took the belt from me and gave me a couple smacks across my bottom. It was lighthearted.
A little later, we were getting ready to get in the shower, and Jackie had text me. I opened my phone. Adam saw where I’d text her earlier “he’s still in suck up mode. Not sure how long I should play this out lol”. Adam wasn’t very happy about that. He felt like I was just being a brat and, as he put it, trying to break the ground he stands on and feeling like, for the most part, I succeeded. He brought his belt back out from our closet and gave me a couple of hard smacks across my bare behind. I woke up this morning with a bruise across my behind and upper thigh that matches the width of that belt. It isn’t a terrible bad bruise. But it’s obvious where it came from! Now, I have to sit in the car for 8-9 hours while we drive to his mom’s house for the weekend…