I blow out a small breath. "Um, we need to talk. Come here." I lead him to the couch. Once sitting, I angle to face him and take both his hands in mine. I can do this. I can tell him. "So, it's about Tony," I begin.
"When I find him, I'm going to throttle the wanker."
"I have a feeling you're going to have to get in line," I mutter.
"He always was too slick for me, but now he's slid right off the grid." Xavier shakes his head. "Bloody wanker."
It's time to pull off the Band-Aid. There's no other way. "Yeah, well, he screwed you over. Royally."
"I know, but I'm hoping something works in my favor and the Buzzards can buy out my contract for the trade."
I shake my head. "No, because you can't become a citizen. Not yet anyway. I don't know where Tony came up with this brilliant plan, but he didn't look into it. Not at all. We'd have to live together for three years prior to your application to be able to accelerate your citizenship application."
My words hang heavy as Xavier processes. His mouth opens and then closes several times. After what feels like an eternity, he says, "So then, we didn't have to—"
"Nope." I don't even let him finish. "I'm not sure if he was high or delusional or had just watched too many rom-com movies with this plot, but no. Our getting married is not going to help you become an American citizen. At least not for three years."
"I'll be eligible on my green card in eighteen months anyway."
"So we didn't need to do this." The words are heavy and hurt to say, especially after last night. "You don't need me."
Xavier sits in stunned silence.
I head back to my computer where my next search is, "how to file for a quick divorce in Massachusetts."
This cannot be real. My head hits the desk with a thump. I hear the door open and close. I'm sure Xavier needs to run or pound something. If I were the working out sort, I probably would too. I have a different sort of release. I open ClikClak.
Okay, you are not going to believe this. I live in Massachusetts, right? Did you know, according to massachusetts.gov, you can only file for divorce in this state if you've lived in the state for a year, the reason for the divorce happened in Massachusetts, or you've lived in Massachusetts as a couple. I mean, I know Boston isn't like Vegas for people eloping, but still, are they saying you have to stay married a year? That's bullshit. Kisses and hugs, I could really use some.
It does occur to me that any time I post on ClikClak there's drama and that's the last thing we need, so instead of releasing this video, I save it in my drafts. It makes me feel slightly better for ranting on camera, not that it actually solves anything. You know, like writing that scathing email but not sending it, if only to get it out of your system.
Xavier's going to need to run the entire Boston Marathon course when he finds out he's stuck with me—in this state—for a year. Of course, that's not going to work if he's playing in Baltimore.
And since the reason for our divorce is that his job is in Baltimore, we can't even use the "reason for the divorce happened in Massachusetts" excuse to end our marriage.
That's going to make him miserable if he has to go back there.
My train of thought is interrupted by the ringing of a phone. Not my phone. Xavier's cell is still on the coffee table, where he left it a few hours ago after he called his parents.
It's not my business, but perhaps I glance at the screen to see who's calling. Robert Miller. That name sounds familiar.
Last night pops into my head. Robert Miller definitely has something to do with the Buzzards. Without thinking, I pick up the phone and answer.
"Xavier Henry's phone. How may I help you?" Perhaps if I sound super professional, it'll help.
"Er, I'd like to speak with Xavier." His voice is polished and firm, and I'm immediately flustered and intimidated.
"Xavier's out for a run. He takes his training very seriously, even in the off-season. Especially in the off-season. He's in excellent shape."
I should know.
"Mm-hmm. This is Bob Miller."
"With the Boston Buzzards, correct?"
"Yes, with whom am I speaking?"
"This is Ophelia. Ophelia … Henry. Mrs. Ophelia Henry. I'm Xavier's American wife."
