Page 2 of Faithless

I exhale a nervous breath. “Yes.”

He looks to the side, his eyes wide and dazed, but then his brows suddenly snap together, and he fixes me with a hard look. “What is this about? Were you looking through my phone again?”

A humorless chuckle bubbles out of my chest. “That you would even ask that should tell you exactly why I’m doing this.”

It’s a perfectly reasonable response to such a silly question, and yet I know exactly what he means. Why am I doing this now? Why am I doing this after all these years?

He shakes his head. “Don’t make that appointment.” I can’t help but notice his tone is somewhat exasperated, like my asking for a divorce is a huge inconvenience for him. “I’ll come home tonight, and we can have an emergency meeting with the marriage counselor. Or… No. I’ll find another one. We can’t go to a misogynist.” He emphasizes the last word, since it was my half-hearted excuse to quit marriage counseling. Our last marriage counselor had hardly pressed Mark at all to talk about his affairs, which should have been the sole focus of our therapy, but that wasn’t why I wanted to quit.

I had given up on our marriage.

Mark knew it, and even in his hatred for me, he didn’t like it. He knew it didn’t bode well for the future, and for some reason, he’d decided long ago that he wanted to keep me.

I’m not delusional enough to think that it’s for me. He just doesn’t want his life disrupted. His life and his business and the fact that he gets a doormat wife to take care of all of his needs while he can fuck twenty-five-year-old women without guilt or repercussions.

“No. There’s no need. I’m firm on this decision.”

His expression grows harder, and yet I sense his unease. He’s finally realizing how serious this really is.

“I’ve been thinking about it for the last year,” I say. “I always planned to wait until Maddy graduates from college, but—”

“You always planned?” Mark shouts, and I flinch at his sudden outburst, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Yet you never consulted me about it?” He shakes his head dramatically before jabbing a finger in my direction. “You’re the one who says that marriage is more about work than love. You’re the one who says the kids—”

“I know,” I interrupt. “But I’ve changed my mind.”

He stares at me for several seconds, and I can almost see the angry thoughts stirring behind his blazing green eyes. “You’re seeing someone,” he finally says. He huffs and shakes his head slowly, his eyes almost wild. “I should have known.”

“No,” I say firmly. “I made this decision all on my own.”

He huffs again. “Sure you did. Who is it?” A cynical smile plays at the edges of his lips. “Cole’s UCLA friend, isn’t it? The one with the neck tattoo.” He laughs humorlessly, mumbling, “I knew you had a crush on him.”

My mouth drops open. If I weren’t so baffled, I might laugh. Is he talking about Parker? Cole’s older, and yet still over a decade younger than me, college friend who spent the weekend with us almost a year ago. The one I chatted with and gave relationship advice to while I made him pancakes, like an elderly auntie. Even his name sounds young. It was probably popular on baby-naming lists during the late nineties when I was looking for names for Cole. That I would have an affair with someone named Parker is so patently ridiculous, I can’t even think of a reply.

His mouth tightens. “Ah.” The sound is a rasp. “You’re not denying it.”

I huff out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “Mark, that’s ridiculous.”

“You know you’re just a novelty to him, right?” he asks as if he didn’t hear me. “You’re a bored, pretty-for-her-age housewife who’s so desperate for attention she’ll do things she never even considered doing with her husband.” He laughs again, and it’s an ugly sound. “I know exactly what you did too, because you were probably motivated by spite as much as anything. How was it? Is it less painful when you’re in love?”

My blood runs cold. As I stare at Mark, a strange aura vibrates over my skin. Am I just meeting him for the first time? I should be laughing. A distant part of me recognizes that. It ought to be funny that I’m now in love with this boy in Mark’s mind. It ought to be funny that even in the most important conversation of our marriage, he’s still throwing out his petty complaint that I won’t give him anal sex, but I don’t have a sense of humor anymore. I feel like I’m a spirit hovering outside of my body with no earthly emotions.

“Is that what I am to you?” I ask, my voice sounding brittle even to my own ears. “A bored, pretty-for-her-age housewife?”

All cynicism vanishes from his face. “No, of course not, but a twenty-eight-year-old kid might see you that way.”

I nod slowly, my numbness almost something I could touch. The numbness that took over a few months after my mom’s death two years ago is almost a blessing in this moment. I know hearing him say something like that would have gutted me even a few years ago. But now I feel nothing but…mystification. I slump down in my desk chair, lost in a daze of disjointed thoughts.

“I’m not leaving,” Mark says, his voice sounding far away. “I’m canceling my meeting.”

His pronouncement pulls me into the present. “No. Don’t cancel. There’s no need. And please at least let our lawyer know. I don’t want this to affect the kids’ trusts. I want it to be as clean as possible.”

Mark’s mouth hardens. “I can’t believe you right now. I feel like I’ve been married to a stranger for twenty years.”

“Almost twenty-three,” I say softly. “And I was a stranger before. You never really knew me.”

“I guess not.” The hardness in his voice penetrates my daze.

“You always thought I was sweet, kind, and mild-mannered.” My brow furrows. “Maybe I’m mild-mannered, but I’m not sweet or kind—”

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