AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I suppose his hangover is massive given his state of inebriation the night before, but I sigh. “I’m not raising my voice. I want you to understand that there is nothing you can do to salvage our marriage. I’ll stay with you until after our anniversary, but I can’t do another six months.”
Sitting opposite of me at the large dining table just off the kitchen, Foster sips at his coffee, wincing at the hot liquid.
“I can do better,” he tries.
“I’ve waited for you to better,” I counter. “I blame myself. I fell in love with you.”
“And I you–I love you, Paige. I don’t want this to end.”
“I can’t give you my love.” It hurts to say the words because I still love Foster.
His face drops, and he glances at the table, tracing his finger over the striations in the light wood. “What about tomorrow?”
“I’ll play the part, as I will for the next month. We need to discuss how to end this. Are we going for a messy divorce or amicable? We never talked about it.”
“I don’t want it at all,” he huffs. “My mother will be devastated. She loves you very much.”
“And I love her. I’d want to see her, even if we divorce. I’d miss her.”
“That’s not a good idea. She’ll try to get us back together.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do. She always wanted a daughter, grandchildren. I’m not sure I’ll marry again.”
“Foster, let me give you a bit of advice. Marriage is work. You can’t leave it like a rudderless boat and expect it to steer in the right direction.”
He finally looks up at me. “I wasn’t. I’d give you anything you want.”
“I want you,” I admit. “I don’t care about your money. How much have I spent over the last eleven months?”
He pauses as he thinks. “Much less than you were entitled to.”
“I only needed you, and you couldn’t spare yourself. I thought the Turks and Caicos trip was a turning point.”
“It wasn’t a trip; it was a honeymoon.”
“And you were wonderful, but then we came home and reality set in.”
He gives a frustrated sigh. “I’ve been busy with the Robertson deal; you know that.”
“You don’t know how to balance your work and life. Suppose we had children? Would they become my responsibility while they dealt with an absentee father?”
“I would make time for them,” he argues.
“But not for me.”
He gulps his now cooled coffee, then says, “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to say it. You showed it. Face it, Foster, we’re done. Please respect my wishes.”
“Will you still go to brunch with me tomorrow? My mother is excited to see you.”
“I don’t want to disappoint Laura, so I’ll go.”
“Thank you.”
As I rise from the table, Foster grips his head with his hands again. I pity him, having dealt with several hangovers in my college years.
