December 26th, 2002

It’s Not What She Meant

 Grinning Pig

Five minutes ago on the phone Eve said she's been talking to her lawyer. It’ll be exactly $475 for a no-contest, no-fault divorce, and she wants us to split the fee.
"Does that strike you as reasonable?" she asked.
"Whatever," I said.

She sounded uncomfortable. But then I know she'll quickly get over it because she's getting exactly what she wants, with no hassle from me.

Despite the content of the conversation I found her voice pleasing. I imagined her sitting on the couch, the phone in the crook of her neck, Buster on her lap. I actually was savoring the abbreviated discussion even though she was telling me things I didn't want to hear.

Savoring is the wrong word. To be more precise, I was just glad to once again hear her speak. My wife. My soul mate. My best friend in all the world. We'll always have each other, and that's all we’ll ever need. You can count on me, babe. I'll be there for you, forever, no matter what.

Uh-huh. Right.

I close my eyes. She intends to make this legal and permanent, and she wants to do it sooner rather than later. Her determination, her desire to do it now, right away, takes me by surprise.

What's the big rush?

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