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“No. I’m fine,” I said and ran my hands down the length of my thighs to dry them.
“He shouldn’t be too much longer,” she offered. “Probably stuck in traffic.”
I nodded my head.
Next, she’ll be telling you to sell the house and buy something across the bridge to avoid rush hour traffic.Neal’s teasing voice sounded out inside my mind.Not a chance in hell, Sean answered him.We’ll never shift back across the bridge; she’s the one who took a job in Epsom.
I stared at my newly painted fingernails. Noticed I was wringing my hands. I sucked in a breath of air, counting to three slowly inside my head. Then repeated the process as I exhaled.
It’s because you’re extremely self-critical, the psychologist said inside my head.You couldn’t get pregnant, the nature of the job — the stress — created burnout, and you blamed yourself.
I uncrossed my legs and then recrossed them. The flowers in the vase beside the couch caught my eye. I fingered the petals and then pulled my hand back as if I was a naughty child.
You’ll still see us, Tayla said in my mind.There’ll be lots of ambo gatherings at Cathy’s house. Hell,Cathy added,Sean will have lots of ambo gatherings at yours, now that you’re earning more than any of us. There’s no escape now, they both said in unison as they laughed.
The door at the side of reception opened. Dark suit and burgundy tie.
“Kylee Dunn,” he said, holding out his hand to shake mine.
“Suit Guy,” I whispered. Stunned.
“Well, actually, it’s Michael Connor, but I kinda like Suit Guy.”
I shook my head, my hand still grasped in his.
“Did you know?” I asked.
He smiled. Understanding lit his eyes. “I found out this morning when I got landed with the new girl.” He cocked his head to the side. “Tell me. Did you ever write that story?”
“I’m working on it,” I said.
* * *
Isat at the dining room table and stared at nothing. The house was silent. My body was numb. The sound of the door to the garage opening reached me in my stupor.
“Sorry I’m late,” Sean said, dumping his bag on the floor by the kitchen and heading to the fridge for a beer. “I was held up on station. Who would have thought taking a roster at Warkworth would involve so much overtime?”
I stared at his back, and I stared at the home we’d created.
And I said, “I want a divorce.”
