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Davis
Isee her shadowed figure come in through the front door, setting her bag on the floor and tossing her jacket over the nearest chair.
She doesn’t bother turning on a light as she makes her way through the living room toward the kitchen. Just as she steps past me, I ask, “Why the hell haven’t you signed the papers?’
She screams out in fear and shock, and for a brief second I take pride in being able to catch her off her game. She’s done nothing but avoid me for weeks now and I have had enough of her diversion tactics. My days of patiently waiting for her to man-up and get this done are over.
“Jesus, Davis…what the hell are you doing sitting in the dark?” She flips on a light and glares at me.
Rising, I attempt to keep my anger at bay. It hasn’t worked well so far. I’ve had all day to think about this conversation we’re going to have. I’ve waited for hours in the dark for her to finally come creeping home. It’s almost midnight and I’m done waiting.
I make sure to leave a few feet of distance between us, but I’m close enough that there is no way she can ignore my hostility. “Why haven’t you signed the damn papers?” Leaning past her, I grab the envelope that’s been sitting in the same spot on top of the table. “This is happening, whether you want it to or not.” I toss them back down with a snap of my wrist. “I was being a decent guy by giving you a few weeks to think it over and letting you know about this ahead of time. Not anymore.”
She rolls her eyes and tries to move aside. I move too, blocking her retreat. “Don’t be an ass. Move out of my way. I’m tired.”
“I’m tired too, Chantal. I’m tired of remaining in a marriage that ended years ago. I’m tired of living with bare walls and hand-me-down furniture. I’m tired of walking into this house every single day and feeling like a stranger who doesn’t belong here.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
Her overall apathy catches me off-guard. When did she become such a bitch? “You’re being served with divorce papers. Get that through your thick head. I’m leaving.” Reaching into my back pocket, I extract another envelope and shove it toward her. “These are the revised papers I had drawn up last week. I want the house sold and the money split between us. I’m done giving you every damn thing.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, some of the hard shell beginning to crack. “I thought you said you didn’t care about the house.”
“I changed my mind.” Feeling my anger taking over, I put some much needed distance between us and force myself not to yell. “I’ve waited. I’ve stood silently by for years while you took every single thing from me. I can’t do this anymore. I need to move on with my life.”
Another eye roll and a twitch of her nose, as if she smells something rancid. “So… you’ve met someone then?”
“What the hell difference does it make if I have? You don’t give two shits about me.”
She throws her hands up. “Well that’s just great. Now everyone is going to think you’ve been playing around on me.”
“I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks!” I’ve never yelled at her like this. Not with a driving need to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. “I am done! Do you hear me? This is over. And it’s happening whether you want it to or not.”
“You’re so selfish,” she snaps.
I charge toward her and she backs up until she hits the wall. I don’t dare touch her. I’m not usually a violent person, but she’s pushed me as far as I can go. “No Chantal, you’re the selfish one. Charlotte died and you shut me out, blaming me for her death when we both know that was a lie. You turned to your family to grieve and left me here all alone to deal with not only losing her, but you too.” The anger begins to bleed away, and a thick ball of emotion settles in my throat and it’s a struggle to keep it contained. “I loved you. I would have been there for you and we could have grieved her together. But the moment she left us you left me too. And in the years since, I’ve waited. I’ve hoped.Hell…there’ve been times I’ve even prayed for you to come back to me.” Against my will, tears pool in my eyes. “I deserve to be happy. And so do you.”
She tries to shift her body away, but I’m instantly there blocking the way again. “Stop it. I am not talking about her with you.”
“Why not? Because it’s painful?” Grasping her arms, I shudder with emotion. “Every single day since we lost her has been painful. But while you’ve been grieving the loss of your child, I’ve had to grieve the loss of my wife and my marriage too.” I suck in a tight breath, and a few stray tears roll down my face. “I can’t live like this anymore. I need to tell you goodbye.”
I wait silently for the emotion to take hold, for the trembling to set in, and the tears to take her over. Minutes pass and nothing happens. She refuses to look at me, staring down at my chest and taking long, slow breaths. It’s like she’s no longer even in the same room, she’s just that emotionally disconnected.
Releasing her, I turn my back and swallow a sob. Tears won’t help anything now. “I never wanted this, you know. When I married you I thought it would be forever.”
She doesn’t respond, and when I finally turn around, I see her walking stiffly down the hall. In that moment I’m asking myself why I waited so damn long to put an end to this. Did I ever truly believe she’d reach out to me again and want a real marriage? No, not really. Maybe I was content to live in misery to prove some twisted point to myself that if she could do it, so could I.
Regardless of how I do or do not justify this to myself, I know that it’s finally over. It saddens me to the core, and I will always cherish the happy times she and I had together, even if I can’t really remember any of them in this moment. Maybe one day those happy memories will be what I focus on completely, instead of all the miserable years that followed.
Wiping the tears from my face, I let myself out the front door and head to Merrick’s. He isn’t expecting me tonight, but I cannot imagine being anywhere else. His presence has become a necessary balm to my bruised and battered heart, his innate kindness and understanding something I’ve grown to rely on more than ever.
He answers when I ring the bell for a second time, giving me a sweet smile and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “This is a nice surprise.”
I cross the threshold and wait for him to turn the lock, then I shove him against the door and take him in my arms. “I had to see you.”
He embraces me tightly, before pulling back to peer at me with concern. “You okay?”
“No, not really.”
