Page 48 of I Did Something Bad
“What?” I repeat, eyes narrowed, defenses raised, a new, different flush replacing the previous one.
“Jason told me the police came to talk to you.”
I scoff. “Jason needs to remember that he signed an NDA.”
“Khin, for Christ’s sake—”
“And second, they came to talk toeveryone.”
Ben is unfazed. “What about on Monday?”
I feel my nostrils flare. The last thing I need is for yet another person to start digging around and me having to fend them off,especiallywhen that person is my ex-husband. “Jason needs to shut the hell up. That’s none of your business. It’s notJason’sbusiness either.”
“He was worried about you.” He pauses, eyes flattening as they monitor my expression. “I’mworried about you. If you’re in trouble—”
“I’ve got a handle on it,” I snap, my arms folding into a fortifiedX. “Besides, why do you even care?”
He recoils like I bent down, grabbed a handful of pebbles, and threw them in his face. “What do you mean,why do I care? I’m always going to care about you.”
“We’re divorced, remember? A divorce thatyouasked for.”
A humorless laugh drifts out of him. “You think I’ve stopped caring about you because we’re divorced? Because Iaskedfor a divorce?”
“That’s usually what happens when your husband of less than a year asks for a divorce minutes before literally walking out of the house you shared with a suitcase that he came home early that day to pack!” Feeling the first prickles, I lift one hand to swipe at my eyes before folding it back in front of me.
He shakes his head down at the pavement, as though I’m giving him the most absurd speech he’s ever heard. “Is that why you’ve been angry at me this whole time? BecauseIwas the one to say the words ‘I want a divorce’ even thoughyouhad been thinking it yourself for a long—”
“I—”
“—and don’t you dare say that you weren’t because you were still my wife and I knew you better than anyone in the world, which is how I also knew that you were too proud to walk away even though we were both miserable! We fell out of love. Ithappens. I loved you, Khin, and believe me, getting divorced was the last thing I wanted to do. But we were forcing a relationship that was already in the grave.” Every word lands precisely where he meant for it to. Before I can recover, he asks, “Does this have something to do with the abortion article?”
Goose bumps needle my arms and chest, but I don’t flinch. “What the hell would you know about the article? We weren’t even married anymore when it came out, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” he says, rolling his eyes, and then, catching himself, looks back at me with a remorseful expression. “Sorry,” he says.
I shake my head. “No, you have something to say. Don’t be sorry. Say it.”
“Come on, you’re doing that thing—”
“Thing?What thing?”
“That thing where you pick a fight so that you can distract someone from, god forbid, trying to help you! That thing where you find something to distractyourselfwith so that you don’t have to admit that something is wrong! We might be divorced, but I still remember how you can be.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I ask, and he grimaces in a way that reads,Don’t make me say it.“Say it,” I order. “What exactly do you remember?”
He swallows, regains control of himself. “I saw you, Khin. I remember that the more our relationship fell apart, the more you threw yourself into that article. Into work in general, and—”
“I will not apologize for being good at my job,” I cut in. Ex-husband or not, no one gets to guilt-trip me with some backward misogynistic nonsense about being the Uptight Career Wife. “I was working on something important.”
“I know,” he says, voice not rising in tone or hardness to match me. “And I wassoproud of you for that. I always will be. But I remember Nay and Thidar trying to reach out to you, and you kept plastering on a smile and saying,It’s fine, we’re fine, I’m busy with work anyway,even though our marriage was crumbling. Look, there were fundamental issues in our relationship that we couldn’t work through. But just because we were getting divorced, it didn’t mean I wanted us to be on opposing teams. I still wanted to be on your team. I stillwantto be on your team. So, please?” His eyebrows raise imperceptibly as he asks, “Please, will you tell me what’s going on?”
The anger is so overwhelming that a primal part of me wants to scream in his face. He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to pull theplug on our marriage and then act like he’s the concerned good guy and I’m the workaholic ex-wife.
“If you care so fucking much about being on my team—” I take in a deep breath, but it’s not enough. There’s not enough oxygen in the world to bring me back to equilibrium. “Then why did you quit on us?”
“Because we weren’t in love anymore!” he snaps, and even though there’s nothing but open space around us, it feels like it echoes off of every rock and blade of glass. “You really wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone you didn’t love anymore?”
We stand there, eyes cloudy, chests trembling. I don’t know what to say, instead wondering how the hell it got to this. The life we used to have feels unfathomable now, like a wistful fairy tale that I read about in a book when I was a kid. Because now here we are, having a screaming match outside his girlfriend’s house.
