Letting a few days pass before entering my apartment, I purposely go when I know Christian will be there. My hope is to have a civil, tranquil parting, but odds warn me to be on guard. Fingers crossed that we can talk like two adults.
Unlocking the door, I walk into the foyer and drop my duffle bag on the floor. Already missing Nala’s greeting, I place my keys on the counter and, since I don’t see Mr. Sunshine, walk into the bedroom. “Hey.”
He turns around, standing at the bathroom sink. “Already came crawling back?”
Oh Lord.
“Actually, I came to see if we can somehow remain living together until we find other places to live.” Leaving Nala at Flora’s for the time being was smart since we’re off to a great start here.
“I don’t know how, unless you take back what you said.” He leans against the counter.
“Um, which part?” I also lean, on the door frame.
Rolling his eyes, he continues, “All of the parts, especially how you want a divorce.”
“You had to feel this coming too.” My head falls on the frame.
“Have there been hard times between us? Yes. But that’s what all couples go through.” Looking to the side for a second, he brings his focus back on me and says, “We’re stronger than that.”
Hearing the couples line I reassured myself with for years reassures me in a new way. “We may be stronger without each other at this point, I’m sad to say.”
He pushes his hair behind his ears and swallows hard. “I don’t want this to happen,” he admits. Staring at his feet, he continues, “And I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re my Tone Tone.”
Have you ever heard something full of meaning and simultaneously have it lose all its meaning in one fell swoop? The air deflates out of the once-full balloon where my heart expanded in love for this man in front of me. All I hear now is the whoosh of air escaping so renewed air can replace it and save its life’s journey.
My God, I’m honestly not sure if he’s acting at this point, trying to keep control, or genuinely caring. I wonder if I’ll ever know which was which over time. And there’s such irony in his words—he’s the one not wanting to be alone now. Oh, how the tide has changed.
“I hear you, Christian, but my choice remains the same.” I still really want to say I’m sorry but refuse myself the comfort. Growing pains are called pains for a reason. “Now, I will leave something up to you.” Throwing him a bone, I repeat, “Do you want to live together while the paperwork is in process? I can sleep in—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He holds up his hands, palms facing me square in the face. “There’s no need to rush this. How about we try a separation, some space, since you don’t seem to have sense about us?”
“No, I’d like to move forward with a divorce.” The more times I say the D word, the easier it gets. Not that it’s easy, don’t get me wrong.
“And you want to live together? Toni, please.” He sneers. “I don’t think so. You can pack your stuff and leave.” He waits a beat then adds, “How dumb can you be?”
Instead of arguing, I stand back on my feet without the support of the frame, knowing separation from him is far from dumb. “I’ll leave because I want to leave, not because you demanded me to.”
While I load my bag with more items for an extended stay at Flora’s, I try to tune out Christian’s whining about how awful of a person I am, echoed by the walls of the bathroom tile. And how someone that’s a true wife would never treat their husband this way, of course. Parts of sentences ring through the fog until all I hear are mumbled sounds, like Charlie Brown’s teacher.
Once I throw the last pair of underwear in my bag, I look directly at him, noticing glassy eyes once again, recently. “Christian, go where the wind takes you. I wish you well.”
Clutching my keys on the way out, I take a quick look at our home, the place I once felt nothing but coziness and relief through protection from the cruel outside world. The only parts that glow in the wake of the destruction are my thriving green plants, which I hope he’ll tend to at the very least. I shut the door on my old life and walk to my car, notably lighter than when I entered.