I Want a Divorce (W.E. 16)

Exercise 16:

Two people (from your story or novel or memoir or simply two people you've overheard or imagined) are talking. One is putting off telling the other some important information (a bad report card? that she wants a divorce?). The other feels increasing tension in the hesitation and indirection...

I Want a Divorce (Free-write)

                She wanted to tell him.  Something inside told her not to.  She knew his reaction would be quick.  Instead she said nothing.

                “I thought you wanted to go to Colorado with me?”  He asked her with a grim look upon his face.  “Last weekend you were so excited about going and now…”  He looked at her like his heart was breaking.  What could she do?  In her mind memories flushed back from Wednesday evening. 

                She stood there in the rain waiting for him to come, but then her cell phone rang.  She walked under the dry overhang just in front of the double doors and answered it.  It was him.  “I’m sorry.  I can’t make it.  My boss needs...”  She frowned.   She had discontinued listening to him.

She was dripping wet an alone for dinner.  She’d wanted nothing more than to share this evening with him.  Instead all she had was the dripping wet clothes stuck to her body.

It had been weeks since she’d been able to spend time with him.  This night, she felt for sure that he would come.  Her heart was broken.  “Sure…” Her voice spoke of its own accord.  She was responding to him as if it were a rhythm she knew the beat to by heart.

She heard his voice through the speaker like it was a message from death himself telling her it was time.  “I’ll see you at home tonight.  I love you.”   She didn’t respond him.  She simply ended the call.

She went to the restaurant as planned.  It was a fancy little place called Phoebe’s.  It wasn’t the most expensive restaurant in town, nor was it cheap.  It was by reservation only.  He’d made reservations about a week before.  It was their anniversary today.

As she entered she was greeted by a woman.  This woman was a short 5’1” with brown hair and deep blue eyes.  On her right cheek was a small mole, a beauty mark.

The woman tried to lead her to their table, but she didn’t want to sit there now.  “Would it be alright if I just sat at the bar?  My date isn’t going to make it tonight.”  She said as if it meant nothing.

Her dripping wet blond hair was a deep representation of her inner turmoil.  Only she knew this.

The short woman showed her to the bar, as if it wasn’t an obvious find.  In a way it bothered her to be thought so little of.  He’d broken her ability to accept even the smallest of things.  He’d given her too much pain.

She sat at the bar and the handsome young bartender with blond hair and green eyes walked over.  He appeared to enjoy working out.  His muscles looked a little bit like Jean Claude’s pythons.  It brought a smile to her face.  It occurred to her she couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled.  “What can I get you?”  He asked.

“Club soda.”  She said gloomily looking down at the bar.

“Really?   You seem kind of down.  You look more like a gin and tonic kind of woman.”  He said with a handsome smile that she noticed as she looked up to his glaring eyes.  His hands were on either side of the bar and he was leaning forward a bit.  His tank top showed all of the right musculature.  He was very attractive.

“Actually, sure.  I’ll have that gin and tonic.”  She gave a half smile with the left side of her mouth.

As he prepared her drink he asked “So what’s got you down gorgeous?”

“My husband...Actually, I shouldn’t complain.  Some women have it worse.” She answered, drawing lines with her index finger across the grains of the wooden bar top.

“Don’t belittle your problems like that.  Whatever they are, they are important to you.  If they weren’t they wouldn’t have gotten you so down.”  He responded and walked over to help a couple that sat down at the bar.  They must have been waiting for a table.

She fingered the glass between her hands.  He doesn’t beat you.  He doesn’t cheat on you that you know of.  He cleans up after dinner.  He takes the dog for runs.  He puts the toilet seat down.  He even helps with the laundry.  He’s not so bad. She tried to convince herself it was nothing.

She took a drink of her gin and tonic and sat it back down on the bar.  She looked down the bar at the couple.  The woman was laughing, and touching the man’s arm affectionately.  He was smiling a new lover smile.  They must have either just met, or haven’t been together very long, she thought. It must be nice to be in love like that.  I can’t remember what that’s like.

She took another drink of her gin and tonic and sighed.  So what if he works late and constantly breaks his promises?  So what if he would rather watch the game than lay next to you and stare into your eyes like he once did?  You’re a mature couple now.  You can’t always get the things you want.  There’s no sense in complaining.  Your romantic life is over.  Deal with it.

She finished her drink and walked out of the restaurant.  It was still pouring rain.  In fact it was pouring harder now than it had been when she’d entered the restaurant.  The weather fit her mood.  She put her face to the sky and closed her eyes, letting the water wash away her pain.

She walked a ways and sat on the bench waiting for the next bus.  She was glad she had forgotten her umbrella this evening.  Part of her wished she’d catch pneumonia, the other part thought her foolish.

She thought again about the past 2 months.  He’d blown her off at least 10 times in 2 months.  In normal relationships this would mean the end. Then it occurred to her.  She wanted it to be the end.  Did she really love him anymore?  Maybe she was just in love with the idea of being in love.  She wanted a divorce.

He yelled at her.  “Where are you today?” 

“I’m right here.”  She said in response.  It came out flat.

“Are you?  Because you seem like you’re somewhere else.  I wish you’d just tell me what’s bothering you.  I can’t tell if you’re even listening to me anymore.”  He sounded hurt.

“I’m listening.”  She responded, standing up from the couch.  She seemed bored with the conversation.  She walked toward the kitchen.

He followed her into the kitchen.  She rummaged through the fridge looking for nothing in particular.  “Can’t you see I’m trying to talk to you?  Tell me what’s wrong.”  He stated, but his voice appeared to be cracking.  She could tell she was breaking his heart.

“I can’t.”  She said as she turned to him, closing the fridge and looking right at him.  “I can’t tell you because then it will be real.”

“Is it something you want?  Something I can do?”  He asked her sincerely.  She realized at that moment that it was really what she wanted.

“Yes, it’s something I want.  Yes it’s something you can do for me.”  She said to him as she headed into their bedroom.  He followed her.  He watched her reach into the dresser drawer and pull out some papers.  She brought them to him with a pen.  “I want a divorce.”

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Authors note:

I bet you're wondering why I chose to write about a woman who wants a divorce.  To be honest, I didn't.  I was going to write about her cheating on him.  It would have broken his heart.  But the character told me she wasn't that kind of woman.  She just wanted something more than what she had.  She wanted a divorce.  Sometimes as I write the characters seem to develop the story for me.  I let the characters tell me who they are and what it is they would be doing.  I guess I envision it.  Like a world in a different existence.  A world of my mind I suppose.  I hope it sounds as good to you as it does to me. ;)

If you have any interesting writing exercise ideas send them to me on twitter @lylathewicked or leave me a comment to this post.