Page 39 of Marriage and the Midlife Crisis

Mitch’s eyes widened slightly, then he pushed at my chest. When he couldn’t move me, he took a few steps back himself.

He held up his hands defensively and slowly shook his head. “Damn, I knew it would piss her off, but I never thought she take it this far.”

My eyes narrowed and I pinned him with a suspicious glare. “That sounds like you meant for her to find it.”

“Hell, no, man,” he denied, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. “How would I know she’d go through your suitcase?”

I gritted my teeth. “She wasn’t ‘going through my suitcase’, she was unpacking for me because she likes to be helpful like that.” Knowing Mel, she was probably going to launder my dirty clothes for me.

“Whatever. You want to blame me, fine. It’s my fault. I’m a terrible friend. Happy now?”

“No, I’m not fucking happy now! My wife isn’t just pissed, Mitch. She’s done. She paid a divorce lawyer.” My voice broke, and I had to clamp my jaw tight to stop it from trembling. I ran my hands through my hair as I slumped against the wall, my knees feeling as though they would give out any second.

“Look, you’re gonna be fine. You’ve been complaining about her lately anyway. Is it really such a big loss?”

I turned and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been complaining about her,” I seethed indignantly. “I love her.”

“Yeah, so you say, but are you really happy with her? She rides your ass all the time, she never does anything fun. You can’t get her to go to the gym. Everything has to be done on a schedule, or it has to be on her list. I’ll bet you don’t even get laid unless she puts a reminder on the calendar for it,” he snickered. “Blow job, Monday at nine.”

I stiffened, the straightened to my full height as I faced him. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“C’mon, man, don’t get pissed at me. I’m not saying anything you haven’t said before.”

My fists clenched and it was all I could do not to punch him. “I have never said anything like that,” I snarled.

He scoffed and shrugged. “Maybe not those exact words, but you’ve complained about her nagging you to stay home more, and that she never wants to do anything. You’ve made fun of her incessant list making and checking reviews and sucking the joy out vacations with those itineraries she makes.”

Guilt hit me, because I had said those things, or similar. I hadn’t meant them in the mean-spirited way Mitch implied though. I loved to tease Melanie about her practical nature and need for research and organizing. It was a perfect balance to my way of doing things, which was to wing it. My way could be more fun, but it was also equally likely to end in disappointment, which is why I gladly did things the way she wanted to.

Before I could open my mouth to refute his claims, he went too far.

“The way I see it, I did you a favor, dude. I doubt that wife of yours would ever take the stick out of her ass long enough to let you fuck it, and that’s no way to live.”

Two seconds later, Mitch was sprawled on the floor holding his jaw as blood spurted from his busted lip, and I was standing over him, yelling at him to get the fuck out before I killed him.

Chapter 13

Melanie

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

I plucked yet another tissue from the box on the coffee table and dabbed at my eyes as I waved off Jen’s question.

“No, I appreciate it, but I think I just want to be alone for a while. It’s been a long day.”

That was the fucking understatement of the year. I’d been near tears when I left the therapy office, feeling emotionally wrung out even though we hadn’t even really delved into the hard stuff yet.

I’d driven to the clinic immediately afterward and suffered the indignity of not just having blood drawn and peeing into a cup but also getting a complete gynecological exam to check for signs of any sexually transmitted infections. It had been even more humiliating than I’d remembered, probably because I’d been crying the whole time.

After discovering Chad’s infidelities, I’d been strong and fierce, filled with righteous indignation and plenty of anger. Today, I just felt foolish, pathetic, and heartbroken as I lay there on the cold, hard exam table wearing a paper gown, with my feet in the stirrups and my hoo-ha on full display.

Luckily, there were no obvious signs of disease, and the clinic offered rapid HIV testing, which came back negative. I’d have to wait on the results of the other blood work, though, which wouldn’t be ready until Friday. It was going to be a long three days.

The nurse at the clinic had been kind and nonjudgmental and had offered me a hug after I broke down during the exam. By the time I’d made it back to my car, I was full-on ugly crying, and I knew I was in no shape to drive, especially since I was heading to meet with a lawyer.

So, I’d called Jen, who’d left work early to come pick me up, and had not only driven me to the attorney’s office but had gone in with me to offer moral support.

Early this morning, Stallard, Abner, and Lowe had been the first attorney’s office to respond to my inquiry about consultations. Gwendolyn Abner had an opening at two-thirty, and I’d snapped it up. After our thirty minute meeting, I’d paid the consultation fee, which would be applied toward the retainer should I decide to proceed with filing for divorce.