Over breakfast one day, her husband said out of the blue, “I don’t want to be married anymore.”
There was no way she wanted that. Ever since they met, he’d made her happier than she’d known was possible. And even during this miserable time, there were moments of hilarity that gave her faith that they’d rediscover what they’d had ever since they met.
One of those moments happened on the morning of a run they’d signed up for. It was infamous for the steep, rough trails that started in a valley in the redwoods, climbed up and down two ridges with breathtaking views at the tops and ended on a beach where the Pacific Ocean roared.
They discovered they had no bananas – the only thing runners ate before those challenging runs. To eat nothing or to eat anything heavier was the formula for running out of steam on Cardiac Hill.
When she got back from the store, bananas in hand, he opened the door and called out, “They’ve made a terrible mistake.”
He’d just opened the envelopes with their racing bibs and discovered the race organizers had moved them from the mere mortals’ section to the elite section.
She laughed – it was a horrible mistake. Neither of them was fast enough to be an elite. He laughed too and she felt surer than ever that they would get through this terrible time. Laughing was the foundation of their marriage.
After the race, one of the organizers told them that she’d slipped them into the elite section because she liked them.
But it wasn’t enough. During a session in a dimly lit room with a marriage counsellor, he persisted about leaving her. The three of them were sitting on thick cushions on the floor. The therapist slid off her cushion, leaned in close and said softly, “Let him go. Let him go.”
She was far too stubborn to let this woman’s supposed wisdom decimate her happiness.
During the days and weeks that followed, they reclaimed their laughter. One day, when they were sitting together on a log after a long run, he told her he wanted to stay together.
She kissed him and laughed. Never asked why.