Page 20 of Someone Like You

“Mr. Perez, if I may suggest something,” Giselle stated.

I stopped, but I couldn’t look into her eyes. My need to protect her in the moment superseded my need to protect my wife. I didn’t want Giselle to see the longing I had for her in my eyes.

“Mr. Perez, please,” she pleaded.

I turned back to look at Giselle, and she stared me in the eye.

“I cannot tell you how to run your marriage. But I can suggest that perhaps you may want to be careful how you conduct yourself, Black king, in volatile times.”

I nodded, and Beth glared at us, squared her shoulders, and walked out of the door. I left knowing that if I stayed in Giselle’s presence, I would do something I might regret.

“I want a divorce,” I declared as I unlocked the car doors.

“Cas, please,” Beth started when we got in the car and rested her hand on my wrist.

I jerked away from her touch, started the car, and floored it out of the parking lot.

“Don’t say a muthafuckin word to me,” I growled.

Beth turned in her seat away from me and busied herself on her phone. There was no doubt about it. I would do what I needed to do. I had two very important phone calls to make when I returned home.

Casimir

Two Weeks Later

Sitting in my dark office all alone, I listened as the sound of clicking heels on the teak floors drew closer to my inner sanctum. I picked up the shot glass of whiskey and downed the remainder of the drink to calm my nerves.

I loved peace, yet I had somehow lost that in this marriage. It seemed as if I was carrying negative energy with me as often as my wife did these days. Peace was a foreign entity for me, an elusive stranger.

The steps slowed down just outside my door. The lights in my office were turned off. The only lights were from the full moon outside of my window and the lights that lit up the front yard.

Five years of my life had come down to this. She was probably hoping I was upstairs asleep. I should have been, but then again, she should have been home at one thirty in the morning. I had no idea where my wife had been, and the sad part about it was that I did not care.

Standing from behind my desk, I pushed my chair back and walked to the door, opening it just as she began to ascend the stairs a few feet beyond my doorway.

“Beth.”

She froze on the stairwell, shoes in her hand, caught mid-creep. “I thought you would be asleep.”

“I’ve been up waiting for you,” I stated in a resigned tone.

“Casimir, it’s late. Can we wait until the morning to do this?”

“There’s nothing I want to do, Beth. I just want to talk to my wife. Something I need to share.”

She turned around, facing me for the first time. I could see the puzzled look on her face as she stared back at me. Looking at her watch, she glanced back at me. “Really, Casimir? Can’t it wait until the morning?”

“I’ve waited for you for the last two weeks, and every time, there’s something else.”

Beth and I slept in separate bedrooms. She was usually asleep when I left in the morning, and when I returned in the evening, she was gone. She wouldn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning, like this, when I was generally asleep.

I knew that she was doing it on purpose. I was very particular about how I kept my things, especially in my office. Beth was more careless and didn’t always place things back where they should be. I knew that she had checked my calendar because the paperweight wasn’t in its original place. On the calendar, I penciled Broadnax. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that it was Darren Broadnax, a famed divorce attorney.

He came with a high price tag, but he was reputed to be well worth it.

That meeting was two weeks ago. I hadn’t spoken with my wife since, at least not in private. When I saw her, there were usually other people around, like her family and friends. Thesedays, Beth seemed to be surrounded by people all the time, making it impossible for us to talk.

Beth turned away from me and continued up the stairs. I followed her and spoke halfway up the stairwell.

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