One day I came home from the brokerage house where I work to find a letter on my dining room table. It was really just a note from my wife stating that she was leaving me and for me to await a call from her lawyer that she wanted a divorce. I read the note over and over trying to comprehend what it meant. After a while I got up and went upstairs only to find her closet half empty. This settled my mind down a bit and I read the note with a bit more certainty that the message she sent was true. It was a chilling note, no love, best wishes or good luck, just her scratchy signature at the bottom.
I tried to think back over the last couple of weeks to discern if there was any sign that could have led me to this conclusion, but I couldn't recall a single event. We had argued a bit lately mostly about my workload, which was substantial, along with the underlying complaint that we had fallen off drastically in the bedroom department, moreso her doing than mine. I recalled that the last few days she had appeared distant and unfocused, but had not attributed it to anything out of the ordinary. What a fool I had been to not see any signs. I reached over for a glass of juice, but a twitch of understanding sent the glass off the table to shatter on the floor. I knew trying to pick it up was foolhardy and I cut my finger more than once grabbing for the loose shards.
I wandered upstairs like a zombie going through my daily ritual, undressed and donned my jockstrap, shorts and a t-shirt in order to run my three miles. As I ran I began sorting out the situation and decided that I needed a lawyer myself, so I made my way over a couple blocks to see if Dan and Carolyn were home. He was a lawyer and acquaintance and would be as good as anyone to handle the matter. She and I had only been together for two years and I had made my money in five so she couldn't claim the entire 50% of my money.