The Divorcee

Her frazzled nerves were just about collapsing upon her, as she turned the key in the knob and slammed the door behind her.

The day had been destructive, and all she wanted to do was drown in some damaging alcohol, preferably vodka.

But she was currently drowning in something else, the paperwork and paraphernalia of divorce. The endless callss from the lawyer, griming over alimony settlements, the stacks of boxes swimming around her house and over her head as he prepared to move out and away from her. She could still hear the ringing of the keyboard in her solicitor's office as he typed out documents, talking but never speaking to her. Perhaps the austerity of the whole affair had been a little too startling, and foreign; she had assumed it would all be over pretty soon.

The married state had been pure unadulterated hell, but the single state wasn't much better. Thank God they didn't have kids; the custody fights, the single parenthood, the financial fights... Everything would be piling up on them, crushing her till she couldn't breathe.

But still, she was not breathing very well now anyway.

"If you think you can just walk out of this, literally or not, and leave all the mess and the shit for me to clean up after you, then you're going to be really sorry."

She squared her shoulders.

"I didn't live till now just so I could get walked all over by assholes like you. And put up with your lies and smirks and stupid ways. Or come home to a jerk with foreign perfume and lipstick all over his shirt for me to breathe in."

Perhaps she hadn't mean to sound so harsh, but the years of frustration pinched every word that fell from her lips.

"So I'm saying that if you want to move on, then we make this quick and fast, bear with the crap for maybe a couple of months and it'lll be all over. You don't walk away as and when you like, you don't not answer calls and avoid me and think that everything will pick up all by itself. A messed up marriage still needs cleaningup after."

And that was how she had initiated the divorce, and it had been so sudden, like she had delivered the blow with a sledgehammer, even as the "institution" as they liked to call it, had fallen apart over the five years that they were tied together by a bloody certificate.

But she was glad that she hadn't gone all histrionic and emotional on him, liked the way she stated her decision the way a very tired doctor told a patient's family that that there was absolutely no more hope at the end of an exceedingly gruelling operation.

And contrary to popular opinion, the sky didn't fall and the world didn't end. She perfected the manner in which she delivered the divorce news to er friends and colleagues. She learnt how to craft her voice into a lilt of mild disappointment, sadness and melancholy, and displayed a little bit of frailty on her features. This usually meant pauses of uncomfortable silence at the lunch table, but someone else would always be able to cleverly orchestrate a change in subject matter and the lively mindless chatter would gain momentum again, everyone forgetting, or perhaps pretending that the awkward subject of her divorce had never been broached in the very first place.

Until today.

It felt like the air was completely knocked out of her; left her winded, to see him, with another woman, hand-in-hand. Oh look at us all, the lovely couples of the romantic world.

And she couldn't help but laugh bitterly at herself.

She had it all; a nice apartment, a great job she loved, friends who would pub with her till late and confidants who could see through her and comfort her. At the end of it all, the most fulfilling thing that everyone woman craved for, even though she could refuse to admit it; a warm body to wake up to every morning.

No, she had lost that one to another woman.

"I'll be leaving you this place, so it'll make settlements a lot easier," he said, as he was tugging the suitcase along the hallway.

" And where will you live then?" she asked absent-mindedly. Communications between them had broken down to lines of polite chatter.

He shrugged." I and Su.. I mean, I've found a place to stay in, for like, you know, a short while." The words struggled to coordinate themselves, and he had given himself away.

She shook her head as recounted that particular memory. It was no wonder that Philip had let go of the house so easily; he had already established another home, so whatever here never really mattered in the first place.

But she knew that it had not been the woman she saw, that made her tremble and her vision cloud over.

She had wanted to look away the moment she had seen him, but it had been too late, they had made eye contact. his lips had formed into a tight smile, then he nodded generally in her direction. She probably made a similar sort of reaction, but she couldn't know for sure, her insides had been shaking so badly for her to notice.

She knew that what had really gotten to her however, had nothing to do with seeing them together. She had seen that coming anyway.

No, it had been that little boy, whom they were swinging around with the perfect laughter of a picture perfect family. A little boy who was shouting "Mummy" and "Daddy" all the time. He must have been three years old, and she had never known.

His voice must have been dripping with innocence, but all she heard were the razor blades that went directly for her.