Gwyneth stared out the window with a vacant stare. A stare that would be expected when one’s husband has been missing. But the stare seemed to suit her. Years with Sam had given her lots of practice. When she stared like this, more than anything else, it looked like the natural order of things.
Ma'am, do you have any idea where your husband is? The police officer was young and handsome. He wasn't giving very much away. His tone was neither tender nor questioning.
No. The last time I saw him I was jump starting his car. She stared at the officer like he was a window. I had just told him that I wanted a divorce, and he had packed a suit case and decided just to go and drive to work.
Tomorrow’s the day. Tomorrow I’m going to ask him for a divorce. I have just left the bank. The bank is a strange place when you think about it. Almost no one ever goes to the bank anymore. Everything is done online, so despite being a physical space Sam and I never physically inhabited together, you could say it was nevertheless the epicenter of our marital problems. I had to actually go to the bank today, because sometimes banking, like relationships, still requires you to do some of the hard stuff in person.
How did he respond to your asking for a divorce?
Gwyneth’s laser stare that had been used to keep Sam composed the morning he left was now back on display. This time she was using it on herself. He just sort of accepted it. He seemed resigned… and a little stung. I asked him about when we could do the details, legal papers and stuff - I have them right here, the papers. I don’t know if that’s helpful or not. He said it could be done later. He said he didn't want to do it now, he had to get to work. He packed up his stuff from the bedroom upstairs and he left.
Having done my chore at the bank, I sit in my car in the parking lot. A moment’s pause just long enough that I can pause even longer and longer still until I drift into thoughts about my big day tomorrow. Will he yell? Will he sulk? Sam’s so predictable, it seems a failure that I can’t see what will happen tomorrow morning right away. Sam always sees himself as Mister Adventure - the daredevil excitement junkie with a winning smile, stunning eyes and a never say die attitude - but what adventure will he see himself in when I tell him tomorrow? Tragic figure? Adventurer set free for a second lease on life? Martyr for family honor?
It will be some simple story like that like you’d see in a thousand movies, or in the endless cliches the announcers use when he’s watching the Maple Leafs. Sam. The sort of guy who’s brother has to drop out of school from concussions yet he always sits on the edge of his seat every time there’s a hockey fight.
Then he came back in. He said his car wouldn't start. I gave him a jumpstart and then I just pulled back into the driveway. I didn't, I didn't even look at him. I didn’t want to. It was the way he just accepted it and walked off. I mean, I didn't want him to fight back but still, it hurt me to see him try to take the entire thing in stride. I couldn't even look at him as he left and now…
Sam is dogfights, dames, dollars.
Did you try to contact him at any point during the day?
Yes I sent two text messages. The first one I asked him if maybe you, sorry, he, wanted to do the legal stuff tomorrow. Then I didn't hear back from him. I started wondering if he’d had second thoughts, then I just sort of started wondering if I should have second thoughts. I thought what would I say if he came back through my door and said let's try it again. I would say yes. I couldn't take that. I couldn't stand the thought that after everything that had happened I would take him back and he would get to be the one to save us. So I decided to make the first move. I sent him a text saying I wanted to start over. I wanted things to be like before.
