“All right, let’s get it over with. Either you’re here to tell me you’ve retired and those are all the assets you’re handing over to me, or you’re firing me and that’s my amazing severance package, or...” I let the words trail off. I’m fairly certain I know what’s in that folder, but I can’t bring myself to say it.
Xav sighs. He sets his beer on the coffee table and passes the folder to me.
“I hate to do this, Nina, but he asked that I be the one to give it to you.”
I take the folder in both hands, bracing myself for a moment before flipping it open. Like it did on the first day of charter season, my name in Ollie’s handwriting leaps out at me. I scan the pages. Beneath item six, there is a check mark beside the words “The marriage is irretrievably broken.”
Shit.“He really did it,” I say, more to myself than to Xav.
Xav clears his throat. “Do you... need anything?”
I lean back against the armrest of the couch and sink deeper into the cushions. I close the folder and toss it onto the coffee table, and the top page spills out. “PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE WITH NO DEPENDENT OR MINOR CHILD[REN] OR PROPERTY,” it says.
Nothing. That’s exactly what Ollie and I have between us according to this divorce petition. And once I respond, officially dissolving our marriage in an uncontested divorce, as simple and uncomplicated as Ollie said it would be, we’ll have even less than that.
“I’m okay,” I say. I nudge the offensive page back into the folder with my toe, then set my Oscar de la Renta coffee table book on top of it. “You sure you don’t want lunch? Water? Is the beer okay?” I wish he weren’t here as my friend. This would be a lot easier if he were here as my boss. Then I’d know exactly what to do.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Xav says.
“I’m marvelous,” I say, though my whole body seems to have gone numb. “He told me he’d do this.”
“That doesn’t mean you believed him.”
I shrug. I knew he’d gone to Ireland. Jo told me he’d stopped by therestaurant to say goodbye to her and Alex. But part of me hoped he’d forgotten all about this.
“Can I ask you something?” Xav says.
“As my boss or my friend?”
“Friend.”
“I’d rather you’d have said boss,” I mumble.
“Ollie didn’t sound too happy about this, considering he’s the one who filed it,” he says with a nod to the folder. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say this was your decision, somehow, but you don’t look too happy about it either.”
“That’s not a question.”
“Fair enough,” Xav says. “Let me rephrase that. What the fuck is wrong with you, Nina?”
I glare at him. “What did you just say, old man?”
“I said,What the fuck is wrong with you?I’m glad you’ve got Jo, but she’s too nice to tell it to you straight. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you get pissed off at me for saying this, but letting Ollie go will be the biggest fuckup of your life.”
Xav has handed my ass to me plenty of times over the years, but never for something like this. Never something personal. I’m not sure if I want to slap him or burst into tears. “I think you need to go back to being my boss, Xav. What makes you so surethisis the mistake? The way I see it, everything up to this point has been the mistake.”
“Believe it or not, kiddo, I’ve got some experience with love.”
I try to hold on to my anger, but I can’t help but snort. “I’m sorry,” I say, and cover my mouth with a hand. In the ten years I’ve known Xav, I’ve never heard him talk about anyone outside of work. Now that I think about it, it’s a bit strange. How could I have gone so long thinking I know everything, when I obviously know nothing at all?
“I let someone go once, someone I shouldn’t have. I’m not saying Iknow everything that’s going on with you and Ollie,” Xav says. “But I know you love each other. It’s obvious to anyone with eyeballs. I’ve known you since you were both brainless kids, and I can tell neither of you wants this.”
I look away from him to pick at the hem of my shirt. “It’s too late. He’s already gone.”
Xav is quiet for so long that I look up to make sure he hasn’t died right there on my couch. When he catches me looking at him, he sighs. “He’s not gone. He’s just in Ireland. One day, it really will be too late. I don’t have the words to tell you what that feels like. I don’t want you to know. Well”—he pats my arm and gets to his feet—“I better get going. Good chat. You let me know if you need a little time off work. Or, hell, a lot. I’ve got a stewardess champing at the bit to pick up some shifts.”
I scan my messy apartment and laugh. “Taking off work is the last thing I need right now.”
“Whatever you say, kiddo.”
