Harry walked up to me with the look of concern on his face as I stood by the classroom door.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Not really," I shrugged. "But it will be. I think I'm going to tell him tonight."
"About us?"
"No. Just that I want a divorce."
Harry nodded with no other sign of emotion than understanding. Professor Crawford walked by then and unlocked the door. Harry took my hand, but I pulled him back to me and kissed him.
"I really love you," I mumbled against his lips which grew into that lopsided grin I adore so much.
"Isn't that sweet?" I heard in a sarcastic tone.
I lifted my gaze to see Liz and Leslie with Charice standing a couple steps behind them. I gave them all a tight-lipped smile and walked into the classroom with Harry. I pulled a pen out of my bag with such force that it flew across the table. Harry stood and retrieved it for me as I cursed under my breath.
"Why do they despise me so much?"
"Don't let them get to you," said Harry. "They're just jealous girls."
"I know it," I huffed.
Leslie and Charice managed to wait until the last second to walk into class, giving me horrible glares as they strutted past my desk. I just couldn't fathom why in the world they hated me so much just because I was with Harry. Yes, it was obvious their friend Britney had a thing for him, but that didn't seem like a valid excuse to treat me like they did.
After class I kissed Harry goodbye and told him I'd call him later. I went home and washed a load of laundry, swept the floor, and worked some on my English paper. I was in the middle of typing when I was startled by my ringtone. It was Harry calling.
"Can I come over?"
"Harry."
"What?" he asked innocently.
"You didn't even want to come stay with me when James was out of town. Now he's back and you suddenly want to come over?"
"He doesn't come home during the day, does he?"
"No," I admitted. "Come on over. I'll see you in a few minutes."
"More like seconds," he said. "I'm at the front door."
I rolled my eyes and laughed. I disconnected the call and walked to the door. He stood on the front porch grinning, a second bouquet of flowers in his hand. This time they were daisies.
"I thought you could use these today."
"Harry," I sighed as I took the flowers.
He followed me inside as I took the bouquet to the kitchen to find a vase. The other bouquet was still on the kitchen table, although they were close to having to be thrown away. It dawned on me that James may have seen them, but I figured he wouldn't question their presence. I would buy flowers now and then just to make the house pretty.
After finding an appropriate vase and filling it with water, I told Harry I would put this set in my bedroom. He followed me there where I placed them on the nightstand.
"They're such happy flowers," I commented.
"That's why I got them," voiced Harry. "Because you deserve happiness."
Suddenly my emotions gushed like a broken dam. Tears streamed down my face, and I ran to Harry, pulling him as close to my body as possible.
"Oh, baby," he breathed into my hair as he ran his hands down my back.
Neither of us said another word for a long time. Harry just held me, letting me cry into his chest until I had no more tears left to shed. Finally as I wiped my eyes, my body shakes slowing down, he lifted my chin to look at him.
"I love you, Tisa," he said. "I hate to see you like this. But it probably won't be the last time I do. You know that, right?"
I nodded. "That's what I'm afraid of."
"It's going to take some time. It's not going to be all better overnight."
"I know," I sniffled.
Harry lowered his mouth onto mine, kissing me softly. I ran my fingers through his curls, wishing that time could freeze and we could stay like this forever.
"Maybe I made it worse," Harry sighed. "Perhaps I shouldn't have come."
"No," I shook my head. "I'm glad you did. Will you just hold me?"
"Yeah."
Harry lifted me up and carried me to the bed, laying me down delicately. Then he crawled up beside me, wrapping his arm around me so that I could rest my head on his chest. I must have dozed off, because the next think I knew, Harry was caressing my forehead, pushing back my hair and kissing me lightly.
"I have to go, love," he whispered.
"Already?" I stretched, my voice groggy.
"Yes. It's almost five."
I got up and walked with Harry to the door.
"Thanks for coming over," I said. "Sorry I fell asleep."
"It's okay." Harry kissed me one more time before stepping outside. "Don't feel like you have to call or text me tonight. Just...do what you need to do. I'll still be here."
I bit my lip to keep from crying again. Why does he always say the right things?
"Okay. Thank you."
When I shut the door, I leaned against it for a few minutes, gazing around the room. Years of memories lived in this house. A few that I knew I would be heartbroken to leave behind. But some things I wouldn't. I walked over to the bookshelf that held a few random photos, knick knacks and other things. Some items I didn't remember purchasing, nor could I recall from where they'd come. I'd never gotten around to putting our wedding photo back. It still hid in my closet, and I doubted James even noticed. The rest of the things in the room seemed cold and impersonal, like a furniture showroom or magazine article. I felt like that was what James always wanted anyway. Something that looked guest ready, not necessarily warm and lived in.
I went into the kitchen to start dinner. I made a simple chicken and rice dish with the idea that it wouldn't necessarily go to waste if we didn't finish it. I wasn't sure yet how or when I was going to spur my decision on him. But I knew that if I dropped the bomb during dinner, the chances of James storming out were great.
He walked in the door just as I was taking the dinner out of the oven. He said hello and gave me his usual peck on the cheek, then left for his bedroom to change. My stomach hurt as I set the table. James returned and sat next to me, scooping up a portion for his plate.
We made small talk about our day before James turned on the TV. He flipped through various channels so fast it made me sea sick. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Um, yeah, fine," I replied, though I wasn't. I wanted to throw up.
"Maybe you are coming down with something."
"I'm fine," I repeated.
I took a forkful of chicken and put it in my mouth. James didn't look at me again, he just kept his eyes glued to whatever show he'd finally settled on. I was too wound up to notice what it was.
Barely touching my plate, I finally stood and brought it back to the kitchen with James's empty one. I did the dishes while he retired to the couch. Leaning against the counter, I tried to catch my breath. I knew I had to tell him. A little part of me was scared and thinking that I didn't have to do this. I could just keep living the way I had been. But I knew I'd be living a lie. And I couldn't do that any longer.
I put away the leftovers and closed the dishwasher and let it run. Then I walked into the living room and sat down in the leather recliner, hoping to gather my thoughts. As soon as a commercial came on, I looked at James.
I can't do it, I thought to myself. My palms were sweaty and I thought I was having an anxiety attack. Suddenly James muted the TV.
"Are you sure you're okay? You look pale."
"I... I guess not," I admitted. "I don't feel very well."
James furrowed his brow. "Why don't you go lie down?"
"Okay," I conceded.
I heard James turn off the television and stand up as I made my way toward my room. I knew I was being a chicken shit, but my nerves had gotten the better of me and I really did feel sick.
"I have some work to do in my office," he said, coming up behind me in the hall.
"Alright."
I watched him close the door before entering my room. I lied down on the bed, trying to get the nauseous feeling to subside. I thought about texting Harry, but I knew that wouldn't do any good. I needed to face this on my own. I knew Harry was there for me, but this was between James and me. This was our battle. And it was time I did something.
I stood up and wiped my hands on my jeans. Then I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before walking down the hall. I could hear James talking on the phone so I waited on the other side of the door for a few minutes until he hung up. Then I knocked and peeked my head inside.
"Yes?" he asked as though I was someone from his office coming in to interrupt him from his work. He didn't even look up at me.
I marched up to his desk and stood there, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence. When he didn't, I finally spoke.
"I want a divorce."
My words got his attention. He spun around in his chair and glared at me.
"What?"
"I want a divorce," I repeated. "I don't love you. And I want out of this marriage."
James blinked, but showed no emotion. "Tisa."
I swallowed and squeezed my hands into fists to keep from keeling over. I felt light-headed, but strong at the same time. My words were out. It was his move.
"Is this..." James muttered. "Is this about..."
"About what?" I inquired, afraid he knew something about my affair.
"Um...nothing," he shook his head. "When...when did you decide this?"
"What do you mean?"
"When...I mean how? Was it because of yesterday? I..."
"It wasn't a spur of the moment decision, James," I exclaimed, perturbed. "I've been thinking about it for quite some time."
"Quite some time," he echoed. "Shit."
He rubbed his hands down his face, clenching his jaw. "You...you don't want to talk about this?"
"What is there to talk about, James? I told you how I feel. I'm leaving."
"When?"
I shrugged. "As soon as I can, I guess."
James was silent for a moment, staring at me. I turned to leave, but he sighed loudly, exasperated.
"God damn it, Tisa, why can't you be happy with me?"
I stopped in my tracks but didn't look at him. "Because you can't give me what I need."
With that, I walked out of the room and returned to mine. James didn't call after me or try to follow me. I wondered what he was thinking. Part of me felt guilt and remorse. I honestly didn't want to hurt him, but I supposed that was inevitable. I opened my laptop and brought up the letter I'd typed. I attached it in an email and sent it to him. It might have been cowardly of me, but I felt like those words were really everything I wanted to say. They would answer any questions he might have.
I lied down on the bed again, thinking about Harry and what exactly I needed to do. I knew the divorce wouldn't be easy, but there was also the simple matter of where would I go. I couldn't exactly go running to Harry's and stay with him. At least not yet. Justine never had called me back to tell me about her date. I decided to text her.
T: Hey, I really need to talk to you about something. Can you call me when you get a chance?
I waited a little while, then grabbed my book to read, hoping it would distract me. But I couldn't concentrate on a word. Finally I got up and changed into my pajamas. Then I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. James stopped me in the hall on the way back.
"I'll grant you the divorce," he said, very professionally.
"Um...okay."
"I want you out of the house by the fifteenth."
"The fif-...James, that's barely a week away."
"A week and two days," he retorted. "That should give you enough time."
I stood frozen in my tracks as I watched him walk into his room and shut the door. What the hell was I going to do now? I had no money, no place to go. I went back to my room and checked my phone, hoping Justine had called or left a message but she hadn't. I guessed I'd have to try her again tomorrow.
As I pulled down my covers, I suddenly felt the tears begin to fall. I crawled in the bed and turned off the lamp, shuddering at the thought of what's to come. The black hole, the unknown. I was afraid. But I knew I'd done the right thing.