That Abercrombie Model

TWO

I haven't seen Glen since and I very much prefer it that way. I believe my lawyer delivered divorce papers to him last week, we are scheduled to go to court today.

I pass a comb through my chestnut hair, "You only have to see him for an hour." I tell my reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at me is dressed in a blush pantsuit, looking like a regal boss. She  couldn't get a marriage to work but at least she can get an outfit right. But me, I want to puke, I have been messed up ever since that night.

Then, I ended up moving into a plain stuffy flat in Tottenham, as far from Mayfair and Glen as possible. You'd say I've been hiding from the truth ever since, pathetic right?

I spent so much time in our relationship and, later on, marriage, that I lost my social life, had very few friends and definitely no one close enough to seek comfort from except my parents who don't know about the divorce yet.

I flag a taxi on the streets and head to the Inner London Crown Court for the hearing.

Glen comes an hour late which makes the judge very irritated. He takes a seat opposite me. The procession starts sluggishly. Amidst the hearing the judge proposes that we sit and talk through our problems before we actually sign the final papers.

I look at the judge with the most respectfully disgusted look I can muster. "Your honor, do we have to?" I hope not.

He looks at me sternly, "Yes you do."

I take in a long, very deep breath. Why me? I train my gaze onto Glen reluctantly. I wait for him to say something but he doesn't.

"Why, Glen?" That's all it takes for the pain to resurface in her heart with much more intensity.

"Liz, I don't know what got into me," Glen starts with his eyes cast downwards.  "It started as a one night stand and it went on and on like a wave. I didn't think we'd reach this, Liza." He look at me with regret in his eyes; as if that is enough to appeal to my mercy. I can tell from his gaze that there is more to the story.

I opt to ask my own questions rather than waiting for his fickle explanations. "How did you meet her?" I am uncharacteristically calm, it would scare me too.

He looks down again, "At work." I suck in a sharp breath to suppress my emotions. My jaw clenches and my eyes throw daggers his way. "She was transferred to our hospital last year." He clarifies.

"How long has this been going on?" I ask forcefully, a clear sign I am about to lose my cool.

"Shortly after she was transferred, it's been nine months to be exact." He says in a low voice but I still hear him.

If furious was a person, I'd be their twin. "So, you're saying for those nine months, you've been with someone else as I was at home playing house?" I ask, my voice rising. The judge warns me not to escalate this.

"Yes. But I'm sorry." He says in the same repenting tone.

"Glen, please be honest with me, do you love her?" I ask in a very low and menacing voice. He nods. "And where does that leave me then? If you love her then what about me?" I am on the verge of breaking down.

"I don't know where that leaves us, honestly."

"Answer my question, Glen. If you love her, what about me? Do you still love me?" I ask him sternly.

"I ...I don't know." That does it for me. I can't be heartbroken over him anymore.

"You don't know? That's a no, right?" He doesn't reply. I sigh audibly. "So, when did you start not knowing, huh?" I yell at him. The judge doesn't take the yelling nicely.