Olivia
After their counseling session the night before, after she made the decision that she felt was in both of their best interest, Olivia felt lighter than she had in a long time. She knew she had to process her grief and work through her issues with her mother, but she couldn’t do it while simultaneously working on her marriage. And the job in Paris seemed like the perfect solution.
That morning, she picked up the phone and dialed the number, but hung up before the first ring completed. Her chest tightened and Jonathan’s final plea from the night before echoed in her mind. Are you sure this is what you want, Liv? Without looking at him, she’d nodded. But the truth was, she wasn’t sure at all. She only knew that she needed space. She needed to be alone for a while to sort it all out.
She thought she still loved him, but she wasn’t sure if love was enough. Maybe, like everything else in her life, she’d just decided that they were going to love each other forever. But not every relationship was meant to last that long.
She lifted the receiver and steadied her hand, and then pressed the numbers again. Tina picked up on the second ring.
Bypassing the small talk, she got right down to business before she changed her mind. “It’s Olivia,” she said. “I was wondering if the job offer in Paris is still open?”
“Wow, your timing is impeccable. I just got a call last night that the guy they hired didn’t work out. The job is yours if you want it. Do you want it?”
Olivia drew a deep breath and pushed it out. This was it. It was now or never. “Yes, I want it.”
“Liv, that’s great! I’m so happy for you. I’ll call the office right away and let them know. And I’ll have them start a job search for Jonathan. He speaks French, right?”
Memories of their college years pushed their way forward. They’d studied French together, and had scoured the city of Chicago for the best croissants and espresso. They ate French cheeses on crispy baguettes and drank red wine for lunch on weekends. They even tried smoking cigarettes because it was oh so French, but that lasted no more than a day. By junior year, they were both fluent and spoke nothing but French to each other for one solid month. Speaking English afterward had felt foreign.
“No…I mean yes, but he won’t…Jonathan won’t be going with me.”
You could’ve heard a marshmallow drop on the other end of the line. “Oh, Liv, are you sure? You two have been through so much. Are you sure you can’t make it work?”
Olivia had shared everything with her best friend, except for the fact that Jonathan had cheated on her. “We need a break for a while. At least, I do. I guess we’ll see what happens.”
An hour later, Tina called back and told her she would start in a month. They agreed she would make the move in two weeks so she would have some time to search for an apartment. As she hung up the phone, her smile could not be contained. And then, all too quickly, doubt began to claw at her mind. Could she do it? Could she actually leave Jonathan and all of her dreams behind and move thousands of miles away? By herself? But then again, if she stayed, she might never have the courage to leave, and deep inside she knew this was the right thing to do. For her and for Jonathan. Now she just needed to break the news to him.
The last time she’d made Beef Bourguignon, things hadn’t gone so well. She hoped things would be different tonight. After she set the table and removed the individual casserole dishes from the oven, she heard the garage door open and her heart leapt into her throat. You can do this, you can do this, you can do this. It had become her mantra all day and she hadn’t realized she’d said the words aloud until she heard her husband’s voice behind her.
“Do what?” he asked.
She spun around and greeted him with a one-sided grin and a nervous laugh. “Oh, nothing.” She rushed to take his jacket as he shrugged out of it. “Don’t mind me. I’ve been talking to myself all day. Why don’t you pour the wine while I dish up dinner?”
He glanced at the stovetop and then at her. “Last night you said you wanted a divorce. Now you’re making my favorite dinner? What gives, Liv?” He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head; he studied her as though she were one of his clients and he was trying to decide whether she was guilty of some heinous crime. Yes, she thought, guilty as charged.
“For the record, I said I wanted a separation, not a divorce, counselor.”
He walked over to the stove and inspected the casseroles carefully. “There’s no arsenic in one of these, is there?”
She laughed a little too loudly, which only seemed to arouse further suspicion. She carried the dishes to the table but before setting them down, she asked, “Which one do you want?”
He pointed to the one in her right hand. “That one.” Just before she set it down, he changed his mind. “No, the other one.”
She made small talk while they ate. Or rather, while she picked at her food and he leveled her with his penetrating gaze until she could stand it no more. She’d make a terrible criminal, would confess as soon as someone tossed her a sideways glance.
“I’m moving to Paris,” she blurted and then added, “in two weeks.”
Jonathan slammed his fork down on the table.
“You’re going to do what?” The muscles in Jonathan’s neck tightened.
Olivia held her breath, but it didn’t slow the hammering of her heart. “I’m moving to Paris.”
He studied her like a legal brief, and then scooted back in his chair and rose. “Well then, I guess there’s nothing left to say. I hope you’ll be very happy there.” He turned to leave, paused, and swiveled back to face her. “Just do me one favor before you leave. Get my house back in order, please. I can’t live like this anymore.”
The day her father had died, Olivia stopped taking her OCD medication. The day after he was laid to rest, she’d called the contractor they’d used the last time they’d remodeled their old home, which had been right after Bethie died.
Now the wallpaper had been stripped and every room except the kitchen was taped and prepped for painting. When the painting was complete, the Berber carpeting that had been installed only two years before would be pulled up and wood flooring would be installed. Then the kitchen remodel was slated to begin. But now, with the move coming so soon, perhaps she would have to cancel that.
In the meantime, the house was caked in dust and keeping up with it had proved to be almost more than she could handle, but it had provided a blissful respite from the hamster-wheel of regret that stalked her every waking moment.
Thankfully, the worst was over. Even still, finding a place to sleep had been challenging. The furniture was bunched into the center of each room and covered in plastic so they slept—separately, of course—inside sleeping bags on top of chaise lounge cushions wherever they could find space.
“It’s just for a while, Jonathan. Just until I can clear my head and deal with everything that’s happened. Maybe you can come visit, maybe—”
“Let’s be honest for once, shall we? We both know it’s over, and calling it a separation isn’t going to help either of us move on. Let’s just draw up the papers and get on with it already.”
The air rushed from her lungs and she shook her head, tried to protest, but she could not drag the words from her lips. Inside she screamed, no, no, no! But before she could find her voice, Jonathan left the kitchen and marched up the stairs. Fifteen minutes later, he emerged with a suitcase in hand.
“I think it will be easier if I stay at a hotel until you go. Leave word with my secretary when you know what day you’ll be leaving. My lawyer will be in touch regarding the house and our other assets. Bon voyage, sweetheart. Je vous aimerai toujours.” I will always love you.
With that, the only man she’d ever loved walked out the door, and she was utterly incapable of stopping him. She tried to, but she was still mute and her feet were stuck in quicksand.
She felt as though she was frozen in time while the world went on around her. When she finally gathered her wits about her, she heard the garage door close. She raced to the front door, yanked it open, and ran into the street. She called his name and chased his car down the road.
She didn’t notice the neighbors as they peered out their windows at her. She didn’t notice the rain. And she didn’t notice the curb until she tripped on it and skidded on her hands and knees. What she did notice was the emptiness. She felt more alone than she ever had in her life. A deep sadness settled into her bones like the cold, biting rain that now came down in sheets.