Page 110 of Woman on the Verge

I am rationalizing. I know this.

To continue rationalizing:

Therearewomen who leave their children. In 1943, Doris Lessing left behind her three-year-old son and one-year-old daughter to pursue her writing career (and given the sheer volume of beautiful work she created, can’t one argue that she made a good decision?). It’s said that she thought that only if her children didn’t have a mother could they really be themselves. Perhaps that’s true, and/or perhaps that’s her own rationalization.

In her 1962 novelThe Golden Notebook, the character of Anna (Lessing’s alter ego, one can assume) comments on her partner’s sense of entitlement to her time and attention and her inability to express her own needs. The only solution she can think of is resignation to her unhappiness.

I have no information on how her children fared without her. But I assume they fared.

Would Nicole be okay without me?

In the basic sense, she would. Rob is nothing but dutiful. He adores her. He will provide for her. He will likely meet another woman. He’s handsome and about to be making good money as a dentist. He is a decent man. I have made many mistakes, but choosing him was not one of them.

A couple of nights ago, I asked him, “What if something happened to me? Would you and Nicole be okay?”

He looked at me strangely, rightly so, and said, “Nothing is going to happen to you.” He put his hand on top of mine, rubbed it with his thumb. I had to look away so I wouldn’t cry.

“I’m worried about you,” he said.

I mustered all my strength to lie: “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Nicole is three. She will have no memories of me. That may be for the best. Rob’s new wife will be her mother, for all intents and purposes. Maybe she will do a better job than I have.

I will go. I will be free. I will become a doctor of philosophy. I will have a rich, full life. I will be happy. Or maybe I will go mad. I am a woman on theverge—of madness or bliss? I am willing to risk the madness for a chance at bliss.

When in doubt of my pursuit, I will think of something Germaine Greer said: The best thing I can do for my community and loved ones is to be happy.

Rob,

I’m leaving you this diary.

So you understand that it’s not your fault. Or Nicole’s.

This life is not for me. I wish it was.

I won’t return. Even if I have a change of heart, which I don’t expect I will, it would be unfair of me to impose myself on your life again.

It’s up to you what you tell Nicole.

I’m sorry for hurting you. And her. Though I trust you will protect her from the worst of the hurt.

I’m sorry for who I am, for who I need to be.

You are a good man. I do love you.

PS: I have left a tuna casserole in the fridge.

Part 3

Chapter 20

Nicole

It is Wednesday. I still haven’t peed on the stick. I’ve come to enjoy this little fantasy of a baby in my belly and don’t want it to end. It’s helping me propel myself toward the conversation I know I need to have with Kyle.

I stare at him across the dinner table as he shovels forkfuls of my Mexican casserole into his mouth. Tonight, I’ll do it. I’ll tell him I want a divorce. I chickened out Monday and again yesterday. Tonight is the night.

The girls give me a particularly hard time before bed, as if they know my mind is elsewhere and they are intent on bringing my attention back to them. It’s possible they sense my anxiety and that fills them with their own anxiety, and the only way they know how to process that is by acting out, refusing to cooperate with the bedtime routine that we’ve done hundreds of times.

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