It was his way of telling me that he was done being measured against other men, done being found wanting in comparisons he’d never asked to be part of.
For three days after I found the divorce papers, I held on to hope that David would change his mind.
I left voicemails explaining that I’d spoken in anger, that I didn’t mean what I’d said.
All of my attempts at communication went unanswered.
On the fourth day, I decided to take direct action.
I drove to Mike’s apartment building and waited in the parking lot until I saw David’s car.
When he pulled in after work, I was standing next to his parking space.
The man who got out of the car looked like a stranger wearing my husband’s face.
David had always been slim, but now he looked gaunt, like he hadn’t been eating properly.
