Page 75 of Lost Room Lawyer
Rebuilding my usual way of life shouldn’t be too difficult. I had years of experience maintaining the status quo.
The more I thought about it, the smaller the catastrophe seemed. What had fallen apart last Friday was nothing that couldn’t be fixed. I was a lawyer, after all! With the right arguments, I could persuade anyone—hopefully even my wife. Once things were mended, I’d hold myself together for a few months and play the perfect husband.
Maybe I should start accepting the idea of couples therapy.
While I convinced myself that I wasn’t facing the impossible. I shouldn’t underestimate Viktoria. She was a very rational person, but when her emotions took over, she could become furious.
I felt awful, and given what lay ahead of me today, this state wouldn’t change anytime soon.
Maybe Linda was right. I did feel a bit run-down.
When the phone rang and I saw Pierin Canonica’s name flash on the screen, I shot up from my seat. I couldn’t take the call. The automatic voicemail soon kicked in, and I heard Linda’s phone ringing at the reception.
“I’m not here!” I shouted and shut down the computer.
I hurriedly gathered a few files, grabbed my jacket, and stepped out of my office.
“He’s not here,” Linda was saying as I entered the reception area. “He has an appointment … Yes … Yes. That’s good … I’ll pass it on. Goodbye, Mr. Canonica.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I put on my jacket. “I’m heading home. I’m not feeling well.”
“Get well soon,” Linda said as I left.
I hoped I would start feeling better soon, but the closer I got home, the worse I felt. No matter how many potential conversations I replayed in my head, by the time I parked in front of my house, my mind was blank. Gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline, I stared at the wedding ring on my finger, struggling to understand why I felt so terrible. Making amends with Viktoria was the right thing to do. It was the only way to restore the status quo and salvage my marriage.
But where was the courage? The confidence? The reassuring feeling of doing the right thing?
With heavy steps, I climbed the stairs to the upper floor. The house was quiet; the kids were still at school. The lingeringaroma of coffee indicated that Viktoria was home. Sure enough, she was sitting at the dining table with a cup in hand, observing me. She had been waiting for me.
“Hello,” I said, stopping for a moment by the stairs.
“Hi.”
Her mood was difficult to gauge. She sounded a mix of resentful and distant, yet also sad and hurt.
Let’s get this over with,I said to myself, setting down my briefcase and walking past the dining table to the coffee machine—although I would have preferred a cognac. I made myself an espresso and sat down across from Viktoria.
The silence was suffocating, and I even turned my head to see if the window was open. It was wide open, but the spring air couldn’t ease the tightness in my chest.
“How are you?” I asked, my voice rough.
Viktoria just nodded but avoided looking at me.
“How can I make it right?”
I honestly had no idea, so I thought it was best to directly ask her. Viktoria bit her lower lip and let out a deep sigh.
“How long has this been going on?” she inquired.
“What do you mean?”
In my attempt to stay in control, I unwittingly betrayed myself to my wife, who lifted her head and looked me straight in the eyes. She wasn’t näive and could piece together how long the situation with Nico had been going on. We hadn’t known each other for that long. But she meant …
“Everything,” she said with a cutting tone.
Perhaps it was better to lay all the cards on the table before I tried to rebuild the house of cards. But where should I even start?
“Please,” Viktoria pleaded. “Just be honest with me.”
