Page 1 of Inspiring Izzy

Chapter 1

Someone once told me the fastest way to make enemies is to marry a rich man. Lucky for me, I married a man who prefers gaming with the boys to actual work, so my enemies are few. Friends, though, are in short supply these days.

Marriage and divorce have a way of revealing who's really in your corner. Most of the time, it's never who you think.

Which is why I'm leaving my marriage with everything I brought into it. Including my last name.

When Steve and I married, I never thought I would be changing my name back to Thompson after five years of marriage. But here we are. Our life reduced to a few cardboard boxes and a broken-down car neither of us wants to take with us. I'm moving back to Colorado to live with my parents, and Steve is rooming with his buddies in Ocean Beach. Where he will, without a doubt, have the shittiest car in the neighborhood.

"Do we need to discuss holidays?" I ask him as he tapes up the last box. A collection of DVDs he brought into our marriage. One he's definitely leaving with.

"You can have Brianna for all holidays," he shrugs his big arms. Arms that used to feel like home. "I'll come see her when I have a chance. I..."

Steve isn't a bad guy. Two years ago, he was working construction doing street maintenance and making decent money when a semi-truck ran his foot over in a freak accident. He lost one of his big toes. Since then, he's been on disability, and his motivation to do anything is zero. Well, other thanwaiting for the settlement money. It's been a year and a half. He's still waiting.

It's not that I haven't tried. Believe me,I've tried. I nursed him back to health after his toe amputation. I took him to doctor's appointments. I've been working three part-time jobs while taking care of Brianna, our three-year-old. I'm just...I'm tired. I'm worn out. I need help. The kind of help Steve doesn't want to give.

I need some inspiration.

"How often should we FaceTime?" I swallow hard.

Steve glances at our daughter, who's playing with a roll of bubble wrap. "What do you think will be easiest for her?"

The truth? Brianna will be just fine. Steve has always been around, but he hasn't looked away from the computer screen much. He's never gotten her dressed, never made her meals, and never tucked her into bed at night.

"Twice a week?" I suggest.

"I can call," he nods. "I should be the one to call. I don't want her to think I don't love her."

Part of me wonders if taking her away from him is the right thing to do. But I can't afford childcareandan apartment in California. Not working three part-time jobs.

"I'll tell her you love her every day," I promise him. "And I'll bring her back to see you. Once I get on my feet, we'll visit you."

Steve exhales heavily, his eyes full of regret. "I've failed you."

Crying would be too hard. Crying would make things more complicated than they already are. Brianna thinks we're going to visit Grandma and Grandpa for a while. She has no idea we're not coming back, so crying will have to wait.

"Take care of yourself," I say to Steve. "I mean it."

"You were always too good for me," he gives me a small smile. For a moment, I see the man he used to be. The person I fell in love with.

"When are you going to tell your parents?"

Steve frowns. "My mom's going to blame you."

"Let her blame me, then," I offer.

"But this isn't your fault. It's my fault."

"We agreed we'd each take 50% of the blame, Steve. You have to stop beating yourself up over this. It's not healthy," I mother him. Which is why I can't be here anymore. I can't keep mothering him. He already has a mother. All I ever wanted to be was his wife. I didn't want to be the person who nagged him to turn off the video game and find a job. That's who I've become, though. I've become the nagging wife who yells all the time. Eventually, the nagging turned into disappointment and I saw him as a roommate. A roommate who stopped having sex with me two years ago. And then...then I asked for a divorce.

"Tell your parents I'm sorry," he scratches his overgrown beard.

"They told me you're welcome to visit whenever you'd like it. They have a basement bedroom, so you'd have your privacy," I lick my lips. "And my dad likes playing basketball with you."

"Your dad must be so disappointed in me," Steve smiles. "He told me I was his favorite son-in-law."

"Well," I hitch a shoulder, "maybe you can be his favorite ex-son-in-law now."

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