Page 34 of Slayer Mom
I walked ahead of him, until we were outside, on the balcony overlooking the greenway. It was very beautiful, with the fall colors catching the last rays of the golden sunshine. It felt like goodbye.
I sipped slowly, standing next to my husband of seventeen years, the man I’d been through so much with: sleepless nights, teething, fevers, and so much happiness. We’d had more happiness than some people have in a lifetime. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stand here with him for much longer, or I’d kiss him and forget about zombies for as long as possible.
“I want a divorce,” I said quickly, then gulped down my wine. I kept drinking until I’d drained the glass, then I frowned at it. Was that red wine? It tasted different, more sweet and bitter than the last time I’d drunk wine. I didn’t drink often. Maybe he’d poisoned it because he'd been possessed by the Zombie Queen.
He took my glass and then leaned over so hecould look into my eyes. “I see.” He didn’t look upset. If anything, there was amusement in his eyes.
“I’m serious. I…I want a divorce.”
“Sure. Where are the papers?” He held out a strong, elegant hand, waiting for me to give him what I said I wanted.
I felt suddenly stupid. “I don’t have papers.”
“Oh. Well, you’ll need to serve me papers. I’m not interested in getting a divorce, so you’ll have to do all that paperwork you hate. You’ll have to find a lawyer, hopefully not one connected to me, for the sake of your own interests, and he or she can help you figure out what you want.”
“I don’t want anything. I’m just leaving.”
He raised a brow. “Did you just say that you don’t want anything? Half of everything should go to you. Your years of endless effort should be remunerated. And you don’t want parental rights? You’re ready to walk away from our sons completely?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it while my heart beat erratically. This wasn’t going how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be upset, and then I’d leave. But how could I say that I didn’t want my sons? I would never, ever, ever let them think that they weren’t precious to me, that they could be dumped off at a hospital by the person who had carried them in their body for nine months. Never. I could not do that and I would not do that.
“They aren’t here.”
“They’ll be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, not to mention summer holidays.”
My hands were shaking. “I’ll be working a lot. I need to find a place to stay, and my job is a lot of hours, odd hours, and I can’t be sure that I’ll be able to…” I wasn’t breathing right. I couldn’t get enough air. How could I possibly even think for a moment about not being here for my sons? Because it would hurt them. Would it? Would it really? Maybe if I worked really, really hard, I could get the city cleaned up of zombies by Thanksgiving. I could take a long break, and of course, with my showers and salt soak, not to mention spiced pumpkin everything, pumpkin pie, I could really enjoy them. Not that I could touch them very much, but if I had a special suit that I wore over my clothes, and washed it or burned it after I gave them hugs, that could work.
“You definitely haven’t thought this through,” he said, studying me and sipping his own dark red wine. He drank it like the Grand Master had, although his eyes were much less creepy, and his face less chiseled and raw looking.
My heart raced and things started spinning. I sank down to the patio floor and leaned my head back on the bars. “I haven’t thought everything through, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t know what I want.”
“It sounds exactly like you don’t know what you want.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “I don’t know what I want. You think that the only thing I’m good for is knitting. Fine. I’m going to find out what I want, and I don’t want any interference from a man.”
“Are you going to date after you leave?”
I blinked at him. How could I ever date again when I already had everything I wanted? He wasn’t perfect, but he really was everything I wanted. “No, of course not. I won’t have time for that while I’m learning how to be self-sufficient.”
“Then you don’t need a divorce. Maybe after you figure out what it is that you want, and have established yourself as an independent woman, you can date me and decide whether or not we’re compatible after all. It will save so much time, effort, and money, not to mention the boys. I don’t think they’d be toohappy hearing that their parents split as soon as they left. They might feel guilty.”
They really might. “But don’t you want to date?”
“You? Of course. Other women? Not remotely.”
“Other women are much better than me.”
“And other men are much better than me. I’m not interested. Maybe I’ll change my mind at the end of this… is it called separation? Do you want to stay in the house while I move out? That might be simpler.”
“No. I can’t do this. I can’t think that I can come back, and I can’t stay here without you, with your memory on every counter and in every shower.”
He raised a brow. “Every shower?” He considered for a moment then nodded. “I suppose you’re right. You have been spending a lot of time in the shower lately, alone, so that would be a factor you must consider.”
He was mocking me. There was no way that last bit hadn’t been total mockery. “I’m leaving. I’m taking my suitcase and I’m moving in with Gloria, or staying at the hotel, or something until I can find a nice place.”
“Stay at a nice hotel. We can afford it. I worked very hard for a long time so that you would be comfortable. Don’t make me worry about you. I’d prefer if you stayed here where it’s more secure.”
“You’re the one who is so crazy about security.”
