His Wounded Light (24 page)

He wheels around to follow me. “You see? This is what I mean. You’re now taking over my life.”

“I’m what?” All of a sudden, I catch a dizzy spell and I have to sit down. I slowly make my way back to the closest seat.

“You’re hindering my recovery. You stress me out.”

I stare at him unbelievably. “I don’t know what to say.”

“We need to rethink this. I really need to be alone. I’m not good for you anymore, and you’re not good for me either. Why don’t you stay with one of your sisters for a while?” His eyes are empty and vacant. He looks straight through me and his voice remains stolid and flat.

Where did he go?

“For how long?” I choke back my tears.

“I don’t know, indefinitely. Until we figure this out.”

“I have nothing to figure out. This is my home. This is my children’s home. No.”

“Then I’ll be the one to leave.” His demeanor is unbelievably aloof as he wheels himself away from me.

I can’t control myself. I yell back, wanting to make sure that he hears every word, yet secretly hoping that he’ll disagree with the truth that I’m about to admit. “You left me two months ago!”

He doesn’t even glance up to look at me. He remains completely unfazed by what I just said. “So take the hint and leave me be.”

***

“Let me tell you the secret that has lead me to my goal. My strength lies solely in my tenacity.”

—Louis Pasteur

I’m smiling in the mirror as I observe my changing body. I’m running late for a board meeting but am momentarily delayed by the sight in the glass. I’m growing. Not as much as I should be; after all, it has been a very stressful pregnancy. I have lost so much weight that I’m smaller and I’m lighter. But I’m growing. And for the first time, I feel the life moving inside of me. The problem is, I don’t even know when I can tell Alex. I’ve been very careful not to trigger his bad moods or to stress him out. One might say that this is no life, walking on eggshells all the time, but this is my life. He is my life and I want to be with him. To take care of him.

I dress hurriedly so I’m not late for my appointment. When I leave, Alex is still asleep. The traffic to the office is light and easy and I have a full day ahead of me. By the time I walk into the conference room, there are people waiting. There are also checks to be signed, budgets to be approved, a meeting with the accountant and then with the lawyers. No sisters at the office today, just me and my staff and it’s a welcome respite from having to talk about my problems at home. I’ve been spending a lot of time at work, especially while Eddie is at school. I love the days when I get to take Maddy in with me because the constant noise and activity is something I’ve been craving for months now. The day goes quickly and I get more things accomplished than I had planned. It’s three in the afternoon before I decide to pack up and go home. Eddie will have homework, I tell myself. And maybe I can catch Alex while he’s having therapy to see how he’s doing. Those sessions have been erratic. Sometimes once or twice a week, other times not at all. I’m still giving him time to accept everything, I don’t push. Not yet.

The reception desk is empty and I assume that our receptionist is out on a break. I stand and lean on the edge of her desk to write her a note to let her know that I’ve left for the day.

“Mrs. Isabel Ailey?” A woman’s voice comes up right behind me. I turn around to smile at her. She hands me a brown envelope which I willingly take from her hand just as she turns and stalks away.

I know what it is before I even open it. My hands shake as I untie the flimsy red ribbon that’s wrapped around the clasp. I don’t pull the papers out. I peek inside because all I need to see is the first line of the document.

Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.

I completely ignore the sharp pain in my abdomen as well as the urge to expel this morning’s breakfast. I take my sunglasses out of my purse, place them on my face, and slowly tread through the halls towards the elevator.

I’m not going to give up on him.

“Where is Mr. Ailey?” I ask thirty minutes later when the maid opens the front door. I keep walking. I don’t even think I hear what she says. I head directly for his office. He’s there, seated on the chaise, with a blanket strewn over his legs. There’s a man stretching and massaging his left leg while he’s laughing about something with Amanda, who is seated right across from him.

“Alex. We need to talk.” The sight of her makes me ill and I’m angry that he has shared the rare sound of his laughter with her.

“Not now, Isa. I’ll come up when I’m finished,” he replies dismissively.

I snap back and move close to them. “Now. We’re talking now. Penny will call you, Amanda and Mr. Therapist, to reschedule this session. I need a word with my husband.” I turn my back and make my way to the other side of the room, where I look out the window and wait.

I don’t hear any words, just rustling and some whispering and then the door is shut. We are both silent for a while. We’re only a few feet apart from each other, but our hearts are separated by a thousand miles. I finally break the lull by coming closer and leaning against the desk, facing him.

“Why?”

“I can’t take this anymore, Isabel. It’s killing me. Being here with you.”

“Please. I love you. Nothing has changed.”

“But I HAVE changed. I have. I no longer want the things that you want.” He pauses for a long second and then continues. “If you’re worried about the children, don’t be. I’ll be here with them, I’ll take care of them. You will never want for anything financially. But I don’t want this life anymore.”

“What life, A? What life?”

“Well, for one, I want to get better and worrying about you isn’t helping me. You’re married to a fucking invalid. An invalid, Isa. Do you want to devote your life to changing your husband’s diapers every single day? Because that’s where this is going to end up!” His resentment of me is clear.

I am heartbroken.

I’m officially destroyed.

“I’ve never given you any reason to worry about me,” I say as I search his face for any semblance of the man who loved me once. Like chameleons, people are inherently adaptable to their environment. We can alter and adjust according to the cards that are dealt to us in life. I’ve always believed that although our façades can change and mold with what suits us, the spirit remains steadfast, intact. Who you are defines what you are. Alex is goodness and patience and love. I can’t find him now, but someday, he’ll be back.

“I can’t live with you, knowing that this might be your life, that you won’t have a life outside of taking care of me. I want you to go. You deserve better.”

“You fought for me once. I’ll fight for you now. I’m not leaving. We’re not getting a divorce.” I walk towards him and touch his face.

He closes his eyes for one fraction of a second and then the hateful blues are back.

“I don’t deserve anyone else, Alex. Just you. I love you,” I whisper. I kneel down in front of him and rest my head on his shoulder.

He doesn’t move away from me, his arms stay in place. His tone is soft but emphatic. It sounds as final as it will ever be. It doesn’t matter to him that I’m crying.
It used to, but it doesn’t anymore.

“I hate looking into your eyes and seeing the life we used to have,” he says firmly. “I hate looking at your body and knowing that I can never feel myself inside you again. It’s too late for us, Isa. I can’t stand the sight of you. We have to get a divorce.”

I may love him and I will never leave him. But I will always remember those words.

Despite the physical pain in my chest, I soldier on, my message as clear as the day I confessed my love for him. I take his face determinedly in my hands and don’t leave him with any other choice. “I’m not leaving you. We are
not
getting a divorce.”

***

“Into each life some rain must fall.”

—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“There she is!” Evie claps her hands together as I walk up to their table and hang my purse on a chair.

I slide around to give them each a kiss on the cheek—Evie, Ali and Betty—just like a scene out of our college days. I’ve asked them to meet me at D Marks for a drink. With everything going on at home, I haven’t had a night out in months. Ali waves for the server to take my order. I can see that they’ve already completed a round of shots.

“What did you want to drink?” Ali asks as the server stands by her side, waiting.

“Just a Coke for now, please.” I fish into my purse and take out a cell phone. Better to have it out in case he needs me.

“A Coke? What the hell?” Betty asks, perplexed.

I’m wearing a sleeveless dress with an empire waistline that perfectly hides my ultra-small bump. I have to stop myself from subconsciously rubbing my belly. I’ve been doing that a lot lately, especially after starting to feel some movement.

How the heck am I going to get out of this one?
“I’m just warming up. I haven’t had dinner yet. Can we order some appetizers?” Now it’s my turn to motion for the server.

“How’s everything at home? Do you know that Alex still hasn’t returned Leigh’s calls?”

I haven’t returned anyone’s calls, either, for that matter. Here it comes. Wait for it...

“She hasn’t been returning anyone’s calls either,” Evie pipes in and glares at me. “Aside from a text message asking us to pick up the kids, you’ve been absent and extremely shady lately.”

I’m going to have to tell them. “Alex has filed for divorce,” I blurt out before I change my mind.

Crickets. Silence. Confusion.

“What?” Ali’s voice is a mere murmur.

Everyone is looking at me, waiting for me to react. I smile weakly. I’m all out of tears. I’m all out of words. I’m all out of everything.

“I’m not going to give it to him. He’s reacting and being impulsive. And I love him.” I fidget with my straw and stab the cherry in my glass a few times with the plastic sword.

Three different hands reach across the round table to grab mine. “Oh my God. Isa, we didn’t know,” Evie says. “Tell us. What’s happening?”

“I don’t know. He’s changed completely since the day he woke up from the accident. He’s angry, but at me, for some reason. I started to lose pieces of him but I thought that I’d get him back somehow. I was served with divorce papers yesterday. I’m tired of our fights, his sarcasm, his bitterness. But I’m not tired of loving him and I’m not giving him up.” I don’t know what to do with my hands. I’m picking at my nails as I throw another bombshell at them. “I’m 20 weeks pregnant.” Everyone’s focus is instantly relegated to my stomach. “I’ve been sick a lot and I can’t seem to hold anything in,” I say, trying to explain why I’m not yet showing.

“I thought it was because of all the stress you were going through. I’m so sorry.” Evie’s eyes start to water.

Betty shoots up from the table, kneels at my feet and encircles her arms around my neck. I see that she’s trying her best not to break down in front of me. I feel guilty for avoiding her calls and for not opening up to her sooner.