PAGE 4 — THE DIVORCE
Sophie waited for an answer.
When I still said nothing, she placed the glass in the sink.
“All right.”
That was it.
No screaming.
No broken dishes.
No dramatic confrontation.
Within three weeks, she had moved into a small apartment near Lincoln Square.
Less than two months later, our divorce became official.
I told myself it was mature.
Clean.
Necessary.
I told coworkers we had simply “grown apart.”
That phrase is convenient because it makes the destruction of a marriage sound like weather.
As though nobody made choices.
As though nobody failed.
After the divorce, I expected relief.
Instead, my apartment became unbearably quiet.
There was no second toothbrush beside mine.
No half-finished mug of tea on the counter.
No one asking whether I’d eaten dinner.
For the first time, I realized how many invisible things Sophie had done that made our life feel warm.
But pride is powerful.
So every morning, I woke up and repeated the same thing.
This was the right decision.
Then I went to work.
Came home.
Watched television I wasn’t really watching.
Went to sleep.
And did it again.
For almost two months.
Then my best friend, Caleb, underwent a minor cardiac procedure at Mercy Lake.
I visited him after work one Wednesday afternoon.
If his room had been one floor higher, I probably never would have seen Sophie.
If I’d taken the elevator instead of looking for the vending machines, I might have walked out of that hospital still believing the story I’d told myself about our marriage.
Instead, I turned the corner.
And there she was.
My ex-wife.
Alone.
Sitting beneath a hospital window.
Looking like someone who had been fighting a battle I knew absolutely nothing about.
I approached her slowly.
“Sophie?”
Her head lifted.
The shock in her face quickly became embarrassment.
She pulled the blanket across her knees as if she could somehow hide the fact that she was a patient.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Visiting Caleb.”
I looked at the IV.
Then at her face.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Sophie.”
“I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t.
And I was about to learn why.
