Di•vorce

Di-vorce {I}

I

„I want a divorce.“

 Aiden slammed the papers onto the coffee table, making her look up from her book. Her wide eyes stared up at him before they slowly moved to the pile of papers in front of her. Pushing her book aside, she sat up straight, resting her elbows on her knees as she stared down at the papers. Her hands were resting on the side of her head and she unconsciously rubbed her temples. She couldn’t make out any words since her vision was suddenly blurred by the tears that were threatening to fall out.

 Except for his signature.

 The neat and perfect signature – only consisting of his initials - at the bottom of the page was all she could see.

 “It is funny,” she thought. “It is funny how his signature alone reflects one of his important characteristic.”

 Perfectionism.

 He was a perfectionist through and through and he loved it. He always wanted the very best out of everything and he got it all. The perfect job, the perfect house, the perfect car… but apparently not the perfect wife. She once had loved it too; his compulsion to perfectionism. She had loved it whenever she had seen that certain determination in his eyes, when he wanted something to be perfect. Ironically, now it had turned out to work against her.

 Truth be told, she’d known it would be coming. She’d known for a long time but it still surprised – and saddened at the same time- her to see the divorce papers. There had still been a part of her, which had kept hoping.

 “Why?” She couldn’t help but ask.

A few seconds later, she looked up at him to see him standing in his business suit in a blaze of glory. Her eyes slowly moved up, scrutinizing his sharp facial features - just like she’d done it thousands of times. She let her eyes roam over his face; from his set jaw-line over his rosy lips and the smooth skin of his cheeks to his dark hair.

 And even in this miserable situation, she caught herself admiring his handsomeness.

 Her eyes finally rested on his eyes, desperately hoping to find a sign of uncertainty or regret in them. A sign that revealed that deep down there was still the man, she had fallen in love with, 8 years ago. A sign that showed that he still cared for her. However, he interrupted her search as he ran his hand over his face and sighed deeply with closed eyes.

 “It isn’t working, can’t you see, Sheila?” His eyes snapped open as he responded. “I can’t even remember the reason why I married you in the first place.”

Hearing his heart- breaking words, she quickly looked down, letting her hair cover the most of her face. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she pushed back the tears, not wanting to cry in front of him.

 “He’s right,” A small voice in her head whispered as she folded her trembling hands in her lap. “It isn’t working.”

 “But I want it to work,” she argued back to herself although deep down she knew it was a lost case. Their love had faded away and she had to accept it. She knew there was no way to get back to the old times in college, when they had been in love with each other and nothing else had mattered. Back then, they had been young and happy. But now…

 Honestly, she couldn’t even remember the last time she had seen him properly, let alone spoke to him. It has been months since she had woken up in the morning and found him laying next to her. Too long. They had grown apart and they had nothing in common anymore. He had noticed that and he had accepted it.

Now it was time for her to accept it.

 She gave him a short nod without looking at him.

 “Okay.” Her voice broke at the end of the small word. Instantly, she cleared her throat angrily. She couldn’t let him know that she was hurting while he was perfectly fine.

She quickly grabbed the pen, that laid beside the papers and put her messy signature beside his neat one. She let her hand linger over the papers and spoke, again not looking at him.

 “When do you want me to move out?”

 A few seconds passed before he spoke. “After all of this is over.” He answered in his smooth voice, which for the first time made her feel sick. He sounded professional, as if he was talking about business. Like their marriage had just been one of his many projects, which was now coming to an end.

Sheila gave him another nod before swiftly standing up and retreating out of the room in a quick pace.

 He didn’t care and two could play this game.