Page 32 of Reformation

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.”

I let out an exasperated breath. My first instinct is to start screaming at her. To get it through her head that I am absolutely serious and we need to separate. Put us both out of our misery.

But during the breath I took, I caught a whiff of the smell of garbage from today, and if I’m finally going to convince her to start the separation, I’m not going to do it smelling like a dumpster. Plus, I feel like another round of screaming will only result in Annika walking out again. And that is the definition of insane behavior.

“Can we postpone this conversation for ten minutes while I grab a shower?”

She huffs before dismissing me with I believe a “whatever.”

During my ten-minute shower, I realize that I am glad I didn’t just react and immediately start yelling at Annika. This separation and divorce aren’t going to be easy. I just need to convince her, hopefully without screaming, that this is for the best for both of us. We need to live apart for six months before we can officially divorce, unless she will admit that she’s been cheating on me. Why else would she be gone for weeks at a time? This is the first time since moving to Virginia that I wish I was living back in New York. Divorces up there are much simpler.

When I come back downstairs, I half expect Annika to be gone again, so I’m slightly shocked that she’s sitting in the same spot. Which is probably why I blurt out the question that has been on the tip of my tongue for weeks.

“Why didn’t you come to visit me in the hospital?”

At first, I don’t think I actually said it out loud. She doesn’t move a muscle or react in any way. Then I see her blink slowly, and maybe, just maybe, I think I might get a real answer.

“Because I knew you didn’t want me there. And plus, you know I hate hospitals.”

“I almost died, Annika. Did you even care?”

“Of course, I cared. I’m not that much of a bitch.”

“I want to believe that, but you didn’t visit me once. Would you have cared if I died? It was Christmas and I was scared and alone…”

“You don’t think I didn’t know that? I had to attend the Mayor’s Christmas Eve Ball alone and tell everyone that my husband was under the weather. It was horrifying!”

My jaw is on the floor I’m sure. Did she really just say that? “Under the weather? I was on an operating table, Annika! I probably should have died!”

She brushes my comment aside, almost like she couldn’t be bothered with details. “Whatever. It’s in the past. That doesn’t mean we should get a divorce. Or a separation. Or whatever it is you asked for.”

“Yes, it’s in the past, but the hospital was the final straw. You didn’t call, text, contact my mom or Mark. I know we haven’t been in a good place for a while, but I didn’t think you were that heartless. It really made me realize how unhappy we are. And neither of us deserves to live a life like that. Are you happy, Annika? And not that bullshit answer you gave me a few months ago. Think about it. Deep down. Is this what you want for your life?”

At first, I think I got through to her. And then, if I didn’t realize before I was married to a robot without emotion, she says the unthinkable, “Of course it is.”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s not to be happy about? I’m married to a doctor. I’m a part of the upper-class. I have a black card. Well, I did until you cut it off, which we can address now. We used to have sex, which we can start doing again when you stop being an asshole. You have your things, and I have mine. I look good on your arm, and in return you get patients and donations, which gives me more money to spend. I thought that was what we wanted?”

I hate the fact that she’s right. When we first got married, all of those things she listed are what I wanted. What she wanted. It did work.

Not anymore. Now I want more.

“I thought so too. I don’t anymore, Annika. I don’t want this.”

I go to stand up and leave, and it’s just then she realizes that I’m serious.

“Are you cheating on me? Is that why you want this? You already found your new trophy wife? Am I not good enough anymore? Who is she, Garrett? Another nurse? You could never keep it in your pants around them.”

A flash of Paige goes through my mind, but I quickly push it away. And while I could ask her the same question, I’m not going to. I have no doubt she is cheating on me, but I don’t have proof. Though if I did, I wouldn’t have to endure this six-month separation before our divorce could be granted. Annika is grasping at straws now, even though this conversation is over. It’s past time for this to happen.

“I’ll be staying at Mark’s. Let me know if you need anything.”

I get up and walk out without a word. Annika doesn’t even try to call me back or attempt to salvage our marriage in any way.

And that’s when I know I’m doing exactly what I need to do.

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