His words hit me like a fist. “I have tried—” But my voice breaks. I take a deep breath. “I tried so hard for so long.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums.
“I did. I worked at it. It just didn’t work out.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums again.
“And now I think I’m ready to be done with it.”
“Done with the marriage?”
“Yes. Done with the marriage.”
“You spend a lot of energy hating Eli.”
Yes. Yes I do. “And it’s fucking exhausting,” I admit. “Pardon my French,” I add at the last minute, because my mama raised me to be a lady.
“You’re feeding the wrong wolf,” he says cryptically.
“What?”
He says it again, this time more slowly. “You’re feeding the wrong wolf.”
I scoff. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
He shrugs. “Don’t know.” He sits quietly for a moment. “Do you remember when you were a little girl and we used to have those traveling missionaries come in on Sundays to do crafts and Bible studies with you kids? They would show up and you all would get so excited. They would sing with you and you’d make stupid shit to hang on the refrigerator. You remember that?”
“Yes.” Some of my fondest memories were of those Sunday mornings.
“Well, we had one about thirty years ago that I can still remember. She had Native American ancestry but she had become a Christian when she was a child. Anyway, I was in a shit mood that day. Hell, maybe even all that year. I can be a rat bastard when I want to.”
I snort out a laugh and I don’t contradict him.
“Ain’t funny,” he says. But he chuckles too. “Anyway, that lady changed my life.” He gives the steering wheel a couple of taps and falls silent.
I wait for a long beat. Nothing. “How did she change your life?” I feel obligated to ask.
He lays his hands on his chest and pretends to be surprised. “Well, I’m so glad you ask.” He sobers. “She said something that resonated with me. Her culture had taught her that there are two wolves that live in each of us. There’s one for love and one for hate.”
“Two wolves?”
“Yes. One for love, one for hate. Pay attention.”
I’m so confused. “I’m guessing we need both of them?”
He makes an impatient gesture. “That’s not the point. The point is which one is dominant that day.”
I’m even more confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Out of those two wolves, one shows up more than the other.”
“Well…who picks which on
e?” I ask.
“We do.”
“How do we do that?”