My stomach was in knots, and I felt like I was going to throw up. I felt like a kid getting ready to go on their first day in a new school, except the school year was already halfway over, and everyone had already made friends.

I couldn’t believe I was about to have my first day of work in nearly a decade. I was so nervous that I couldn’t even touch the breakfast I’d made for myself, and I had to force myself to suck down my coffee.

The hours at a manufacturing plant are far different from any of the office jobs I’ve worked at in the past. I was accustomed to a work day that was a standard 9 to 5, but my new schedule was going to be 11 am to 11 pm, four days per week. I only hoped that there would be some cool people to talk to or that was going to make for some long work days.

I didn’t know much about what my day was going to entail. The only thing I knew for sure was that there would be someone with me in the office until 3 pm each day, which is when their shift ended.

If I had to choose a couple of words to describe how I felt as I looked at the clock, it was scared shitless. What was I getting myself into? Why in the hell did I apply to work at a factory? Why in the hell did they hire me? Surely there had to be someone much more qualified who applied. Maybe I was making a huge mistake.

For some reason, I’d gotten up before the sun. It was partly nerves and partly because I wanted to do something nice for Dillon since this was new to him as well. Despite what he might be thinking, my choice to get a job outside of the house didn’t have anything to do with him, and I intended to talk to him about that as soon as our schedules meshed up.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I forced myself to start getting ready to start my first shift. Even though my stomach was twisted up in knots, I figured I’d be starving at some point, so I packed myself a turkey and cheese sandwich, a bag of chips, an apple, and a banana for lunch and threw it all in a cooler along with a couple of bottles of water. I sat the cooler next to the front door, so I wouldn’t forget and made my way to the bathroom so I could jump in the shower.

I turned the water on as hot as I could stand it and propped my tablet up on the sink so I could listen to my music while I washed. It was a habit that I’d started when relaxing in the tub and it became an obsession.

I hit shuffle, and the sounds of Hey There Delilah by Plain White T’s filled the room. Since it was one of my favorite songs, I hoped that it was an indication that the day was going to go great. Little did I know that my day was going to be ruined before I even made it out of the house.

“All ready for your first day?” Dillon asked, walking into the bathroom as I was drying off.

“I’m not really sure,” I replied. “I didn’t think I’d be as nervous as I am. I feel like I could vomit.”

“There’s still time to call them and tell them you changed your mind. It’s not like you signed a contract or anything. You can still stay home.”

“Dillon, please don’t start with me. I know you don’t want me to do this, but I need to do it for me. You’re gone at the practice all the time, and I’m here by myself. At least this way, I can get out of the house during the week and contribute to the household.”

“Have you seen the bank account lately?” Dillon asked with a load of snark in his voice. “We don’t exactly need the household to be contributed to. You make it sound like I’m out running around at the bars or something. I’m gone all day for us. I’m gone all the time at the practice because I’m putting in the hard work so we can have anything we want in life. I always thought you appreciated that.”

“I do, Dillon. I appreciate it very much, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get lonely.”

“Do I need to remind you’re the one who said you wanted to be a housewife? You were so excited and used to tell anyone who would listen that you get to take care of the house while your man works to pay the bills. Hell, when we were dating, you told me that you were old fashioned and dreamed of being a housewife.”

“That was always my dream, but this wasn’t at all what I had in mind. When I said I wanted to be a housewife, I imagined being a wife and a mother. I pictured my days being spent playing outside with our children, preparing their meals and cleaning up after them. I never dreamed that I’d be a housewife in a house all by myself.”

“Kayla, we have gone over this time and time again. There’s a time for kids, but this isn’t it.”

“Well, I have a feeling that that time has passed anyway, so it doesn’t really matter anyway.”

He sat in silence, looking at me as I dried my hair and got dressed for work. It felt weird getting dressed in jeans and a t-shirt since every job I’d ever had required me to be dressed in business attire except for the occasional casual Friday’s.

Even weirder was having to put on a pair of steel-toed work boots. Although I technically had an office job, there were going to be times when I had to walk around the plant, so the footwear was required. They were a lot different from the pumps I used to choose for comfort and style. These boots were not only uncomfortable, but they were ugly as hell.

Dillon remained silent, looking down at the tile, not sure what to say. If there was one thing he was used to, it was getting his way. Throughout life, he got what he wanted. It was never handed to him, and he had to fight and claw for everything he had, but in the end, he was used to getting his way. I could see the fact that he wasn’t winning this one was eating at him. Part of me felt guilty, but a larger part of me was utterly annoyed.

“So what is this all about?” he asked as I finished curling my hair and was starting to put on my makeup.

“What’s all of what about? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“Well, you’re going to work in a factory, right?”

“Yes,” I replied, hoping the conversation wasn’t heading in the direction that I thought it was.

“Aren’t most factories dirty and dingy?”

“I guess so, although this place is actually really clean. Besides, I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It’s not like I’m dressed in any of my nice clothes.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Kayla. What’s the deal with the hair and makeup?”

“You have a problem with me wanting to look nice on my first day of work?”

“Not necessarily, but let me ask you a question. How many women work at this factory?”

“I don’t know, Dillon. I haven’t started yet.”

“Okay, but you were there for your interview, right? How many women did you see?”

“I don’t know, a few?”

“Right, a few. That means the majority of the people that are going to be working there are men, right?”

“I guess so.”

“Exactly, so don’t play me for a fool. The hair, the makeup, you’re doing that all so you can look nice for the men at work.”

“Are you fucking crazy? You do realize that I’ll be working in an office with another woman, right? I’m getting made up to make myself look good, not because I’m going to be around a bunch of guys.”

“I’m sure that has nothing to do with it.”

“What is the matter with you today? I get that you're upset about all of this, but what have I ever done to make you think that I would be unfaithful or try to get the attention of other men?”

“Nothing, I suppose.”

“No, I’m not going to accept that answer. You’ve obviously got something in your head so why don’t you tell me what it is? Why makes you think that me doing my hair and makeup has anything to do with the guys I’ll be working around?”

“Honestly? Why don’t you tell me when the last time you did your hair for me was? What about the last time you put on your makeup to look good for me? You stopped doing all of that shit for me a long time ago. Even when we go out with drug reps, you pull your hair back into a ponytail, and that’s it. You’re getting more made up to go into a building full of strangers than you’ve done for me in years.”

I was getting furious but was trying my best to keep my composure. The last thing I needed was to get upset and start crying before my first day. It would wreck my mascara.

“I can’t do this right now, Dillon. I can’t believe you would want to do this right now.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are,” I said through gritted teeth as I stormed out of the bathroom, grabbed my things, and made my way towards the front door.

“Try to have a good first day at work,” he yelled as I was slamming the front door behind me. I responded with a middle finger in the air that he couldn’t see unless he had developed x-ray vision.

I had to sit in my car for a few moments before I could start it. I felt like he’d just started the fight with me in an attempt to ruin my first day. That had to be it, right? But the things he was saying, was he wrong?