Veiled Affection

Chapter Eighteen

I apologized to her a great deal that afternoon. The first sorry was meant for her divorce, and the ones that followed were all aimed at my complete ignorance; for not asking things and staying silent that past month. She would say it didn't matter and I wasn't the one to blame, yet a minute later came my twentieth apology.

But my regrets aside, when we sat on the couch the entire afternoon, I was just glad she shared things with me again. Things of which she was so afraid to share. She mostly told me what happened, and all that would follow. Lawyers were put into action, piles of paper were signed, many tears were shed. She told me all of this whilst the occasional tears rose to her eyes. I listened intently, thought deeply, and scolded at myself excessively. I was the one who found her drinking habits uncalled for, yet hearing all she had to say, I doubt I would have handled it differently. And then it came to mind:

Was I next? Was I next to experience what she had gone through? Her breakup had been finalized and I was next in line. Sure it came out as a joke at the start of her own divorce process, but by then I couldn't be more sure of my eagerness to divorce. So when the realization dawned of my upcoming announcement towards my husband, I asked her a question.

''How did you tell him?''

''Pardon?''

''How did you tell Andrew you wanted to divorce? You said it yourself. I am up next.''

''That is what you got from all I said?'' She smiled, then shrugged. ''Just say it. No preparation, no overthinking.''

''Ripping the band aid off kind of technique?''

''Exactly.''

I paused for a moment.

''I want to wait until the right moment.''

''There is never a right moment to tell your husband you want to separate.''

As we both drank some tea, there settled a silence over us in which we were both deeply emerged in thought. It was after a minute or so that I spoke again.

''What have we gotten ourselves into?'' I asked, and it was a question of good humor, said with a snicker. But underneath the sarcastic tone, there was also a genuine astonishment. Because truly, thinking back on the past months, so much monotony had already been disturbed.

She took another sip of her drink before she said: ''Freedom.''

That same evening, as soon as Gregory was home, I ripped off the band aid. I led us to the couch and then I simply told him. And his reaction was remarkable to say the least.

He looked at me, not a sign of expression in his eyes, and then he said the word.

''Okay.''

That was all he said. All he had to say. I tried going into it without any expectations whatsoever, nevertheless I paused from my fidgeting, because my body came to a halt at this spectacle. Not a feature of his monotonous face altered its ordinary expression. Not a single tear rose to Gregory's eye.

Had he objected my request - had he deliberately fought for me, for my love - I would have considered second-guessing my decision. He should have said: 'No, I'm not letting you go. I need you by my side.', yet all I got was a meaningless word. But then again, it was his incapability of effort that made me decide our marriage was a dead end. It was then, when he uttered that frivolous word, that I was certain.

He stood up and walked out of the room, and I started crying.

It was when I finished crying later that evening that I was on the phone with Cate, and told her what happened.

''What an idiot.'' She said. ''Where is he now?''

''He went out.''

''Do you want me to come over?''

''No need. I am just going to wait for him to return.''

''And then what?''

''I just want to talk to him.''

''Considering he gave you a single word to go off of, it seems to me he isn't up for talking. I am coming over.''

''Please Cate, don't. I will just wait some more before I go to bed, with or without him.''

I heard her sigh through the phone.

''Well, let me at least see you tomorrow then.''

''Of course.'' I told her, before we said our goodbyes and hung up.

I poured myself a drink, strolled over to the couch, and the moment I went and sat down, I heard the front door open. Gregory walked into the living room. He looked at me only briefly before he walked over to the other side of the room and sat down on the stool. There he picked up a book that lay on the side table next to him and opened it.

I, again, was at a loss for words at the sight of his manner. He sat there, casually leafing through his book, seemingly unaware of my presence. I wanted him to say something, anything, but with every silent second that passed, I figured it wasn't going to happen. So then I took initiative.

''Where have you been?'' I asked, and I winced the moment I said it. Being the overly inquisitive wife was not my way of going about it. But the thing that caught me off guard more was his response, which wasn't even existent.

He stayed silent, kept looking down at his book, and ignored me completely. I myself was speechless, looking at him, as I couldn't help but marvel at this scene. We stayed like that for a while - my eyes focused on him and his focused on the book in front of him - before I set my glass aside and spoke to him more surely.

''I want to talk to you, Gregory.''

''You are calling me by my full name now?'' He responded at once, his eyes still emerged in his book.

I ignored the remark. He closed his book and lay it aside.

''Okay,'' He said, and I cringed at the word. ''What do you have to say?''

For the first time since he came into the room his eyes met mine. And when they did, he just looked indifferent. I took a deep sigh.

''Please, share what you think. Tell me what you feel. I understand the way you are reacting,'' I lied. ''But please do not make this any more difficult. Just say whatever it is you have to say.''

I paused for a second.

''You mustn't keep things from me, Gregory.''

A bark of laughter escaped his lips, and then he shook his head.

''Of all people,'' He muttered barely audible.

''What?'' I asked, but he gave me nothing. He stayed silent once again, and it started to work on my nerves. It was when his dull eyes seemed to look right through me, and his hand again reached for his book, that I continued headstrong.

''Have you not understood what I told you, Gregory? I want to divorce.''

''When are you just going to admit you are cheating behind my back!'' He snapped, and I stopped breathing.