2: 2
2
Half an hour later, laughter drifted in from the hallway.
Thomas came through the door dragging three suitcases for Marina, her windbreaker still slung over one arm.
Marina took in the full spread on the table and threw her arms around me with a dramatic squeeze.
"Carrie, no one's better than you."
"If I were Thomas, I'd marry you too. A hot meal on the table every night when you come home. How is that not paradise?"
Thomas set her luggage down and let out a short laugh.
"You couldn't do it if you tried."
"Carrie's got no real career drive. If you stayed home three days, you'd probably tear the roof off the place."
They both laughed.
I stood where I was, my fingers slowly curling into my palms.
"My job. You're the one who told me to quit it."
For a beat, the laughter in the living room stopped.
Thomas frowned at me.
"I just didn't think that paycheck was worth wearing yourself out while you're pregnant."
"You agreed to quit yourself. How is that suddenly my fault now?"
Marina hurried to catch my hand.
"Carrie, Thomas only says it because he cares about you."
"And a woman doesn't have to have a career. You keep this whole home running. That's already something to be proud of."
Her tone was sincere.
But hearing it sat worse than any sneer.
Marina could win international awards, travel the world, surf and skydive.
And I quit my job, carried a baby, swallowed my morning sickness, and put a full dinner on the table.
And the highest praise I could earn was that I kept the home running nicely.
Over dinner, Marina pulled out her tablet and showed Thomas the project proposal she'd just finished.
The two of them went from overseas markets to funding plans.
I had watched this scene for seven years.
Back in school, they were the two brightest stars on campus.
They won the startup competition together, made the cover of a finance magazine together.
And I was just an ordinary bank employee.
When they pulled all-nighters revising a project, I was the one delivering food.
When they stood on stage giving interviews, I sat in the audience, holding their phones and their coats.
I used to think that as long as Thomas came home holding my hand in the end,
whether or not I stood beside him didn't matter.
It was only in this moment that I saw it.
Marriage had given me the title of wife, but it had never let me truly step into his world.
When Marina got to the funding plan, I couldn't help but say,
"The policy in this industry seems to be shifting. The banks have been tightening approvals lately."
Thomas didn't even lift his head.
"You've been out of work two months. Your information's long out of date."
"Marina and I will handle this. You don't need to worry about it."
But Marina looked over at me and smiled.
"It's already impressive that Carrie thought of that."
"At least it shows she pays attention to what we do."
Only then did Thomas raise his head.
"She's always like this. Afraid she can't keep up with us, so she forces herself to listen to everything."
"There's really no need."
He ladled a bowl of soup for me and set it in front of me.
"Everyone's good at different things."
"You just take good care of the baby. That's the biggest help you can give me."
I looked at the soup in the bowl, scattered all over with the cilantro I never eat, and my stomach started to turn again.
I didn't say anything else, only lowered my head to confirm Wednesday morning's prenatal checkup.
Last time, Thomas had suddenly needed to drive Marina to the airport, and promised he'd come with me for sure next time.
But I didn't ask him again whether he still remembered.
