Life Without You

by S. P. West

  “For what it’s worth…I’m sorry,” he says before the sound of the door shutting lets me know that he’s gone.

  SUMMER

  A WHOLE MONTH has passed since my life fell completely apart. I’ve tried to spend the time wisely, focusing on the recovery of my health and not the loss of baby or the total breakdown of my once happy marriage. I’d like to say that my life has gotten easier over the last few weeks; I’d also like to say I’ve won the lottery. Both would be a big fat lie.

  The doctors say that my physical recovery from the ectopic has been excellent. Unfortunately, my mental recovery has not; although the strong antidepressants that I’ve been prescribed, seem to be doing a fine job of numbing the pain in my heart.

  I’m ashamed to admit that after Alex left me that day at the hospital; I completely broke down, sobbing uncontrollably for hours. It was touch and go for a while whether I would be allowed home after my week of recovery. After a thorough psychiatric assessment, I was diagnosed with mild depression. The hospital recommended that I talk to a therapist; they thought it might help me start to come terms with the trauma I’d experienced over last month. So, for the past three weeks, Violet and I have dutifully headed off to see Sula so that I can bear my soul. I naively thought that I could fool her by putting a brave face on things but I really don’t think that I’m fooling anyone anymore.

  The session that I just left was particularly brutal as Sula forced me to confront how I felt about the loss of my child and relationship. Emotionally and physically, I feel battered and bruised. I’m looking forward to heading home and soaking in the bath.

  I just need to shut the world out.

  As I’m feeling slightly stronger, Violet has gone to explore the sights and sounds of San Francisco for the rest of the day, leaving me to have a peaceful few hours of self-indulgence.

  For the first time in weeks, I find myself smiling at the thought of being able to completely relax, not having to think about all the crap that has happened.

  It therefore comes as a shock to find Alex sitting on the couch as I enter the living room.

  Seeing him unexpectedly causes me to drop my bag, letting out a small scream in the process. He raises his head from his hands, giving me a tight smile.

  It takes a few seconds to recover from the shock before the anger hits. “What the hell are you doing here Alex? You don’t live here anymore!”

  “Hello to you too,” he drawls.

  “That’s all you have to say?”

  “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” Alex queries, lounging back against the plush pillows of the cream sofa. Memories of happier times spring forth unwanted as I watch him arrogantly, invading my home. Nights we cuddled up together talking, watching movies, making love… A subtle shake of my head is ineffectual at banishing such thoughts.

  “How about telling me why the fuck you are in my apartment?” I demand giving him the coldest, hardest glare that I can muster.

  “Last time I checked it was our apartment,” he answers with a cocky grin, which only helps as I try to imagine the most painful way possible that I can wipe that smug look off of his face.

  “Last time I checked I told you to leave the bloody key.” Or least that’s what I think I said, seeing as I said it through gritted teeth as I move round to face him directly.

  This is the first time I’ve seen him since I lost the baby. Since then I haven’t heard a peep out of him except a couple of text messages asking if I’m okay, which were ignored, also a large bouquet of flowers, which went straight in the rubbish. I just can’t understand his hot and cold attitude. One moment being an arse like this, the next being kind and considerate.

  Alex lets out a long sigh, putting his feet up on the table and crossing his hands behind his head. He gestures with his chin for me to take a seat. Despite my annoyance, I sit down in the vintage leather armchair that we’d bought from a flea market a couple of years ago. As I sit, I notice that just to the left of his feet is a large manila envelope bearing his name. My heart skips a beat over the suspicion of what it contains. The overwhelming silence of the next few minutes only serves to heighten the panic that I feel over what will come next.

  Even though I know that divorce is looming, part of me doesn’t want it to happen. Part of me wants him to tell me that this is all a stupid mistake that he wants to come home. Foolishly, I still love the man in front of me. Even after everything he’s done and all the hurt he’s caused me I would take him back in an instant if he just said the word.

  “How’s Rachel?” I ask trying to delay the inevitable; secretly hoping beyond hope that she’s contracted some form of genital warts on her face. Alex looks surprised at my question.

  “She’s good.” The smile on his face at the mention of her name is like a dagger to my heart. Curiously, that smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “Oh. Great.” I could kick myself for not giving him some scathing, witty comment. Instead, I settle for the fakest smile I can produce.

  Alex swings his feet off the table, removes his hands from the back of his head placing them instead on his thick thighs. He leans forward, his face serious.

  “I think you know why I’m here Summer.” He says nudging packet towards me.

  My hands tremble slightly as I pick up the dreaded envelope. Taking out the stack of papers I skim over the words not really taking any of them in except our names and Petition for Dissolution (Divorce) of Marriage.

  I feel like the air has been knocked out of me, I can’t breathe let alone speak.

  I’m not ready for this.

  “I want to make this as easy as possible for both of us.”

  The room around me sways slightly from the shock; I can feel the blood draining from my face. I knew that this was a possibility but to see the actual words in front of me tears my already damaged heart in two.

  “We’ll split everything down the middle,” he carries on, unaware of the pain that I’m feeling. “As we have no kids and no property it’s as simple as signing on the dotted line.” I look from the paper in my hands to his face. Desperately searching for some hint, some tiny clue that of why he’s doing this. His eyes give me nothing, except a guarded weariness.

  “All you need to do is sign,” he shrugs, “and we can get on with the rest of our lives.”

  I can’t respond to him; to tell l him that I saw an attorney too, so I know how it works. I couldn’t bring myself to file, as angry as I am, because I naively thought that love would conquer all. Looking back now it was silly of me to think that he would have a sudden change of heart.

  “I wanted to give this to you in person; I didn’t want to make it worse by getting some guy to serve you with them.” He rushes out quickly in an attempt counter my deafening silence.

  “How noble of you.” I say finding my voice, annoyed at his pathetic effort to come across as a good guy. “Going straight for the easiest option I see. Why not sit down and talk about this properly, like adults?” I chuck the papers at him making them scatter everywhere. “But no. You chose the option that allows you to think you have the moral high ground, instead of fighting to save our marriage. You chose to divorce for a sordid little fling with some slut you’ve known for all of FIVE FUCKING MINUTES,” all the anger and pain that I’ve felt spews out of my mouth. If I weren’t so furious, I would laugh at the stunned expression on Alex’s face. He doesn’t dare to try to interrupt me while I pour out my vengeful scorn.

  “It won’t last you know. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side, sweetheart. I hope that when that little fact finally gets in that thick skull of yours, when you realize what you threw away for the sake of a leg over with the office bike; that you will know what hurt is. If you even feel a tenth of the pain that you’ve caused me…” I pause to take in a deep breath, stifling the sob that threatens to rip out of my throat. A strange sense of calm settles over me as I continue, “You know that once I sign these then that is it for us. There’s no changing your mind, begging
to come back because I won’t have you,” I smirk knowing that what I say next will hurt him, “Rachel can have my slopping seconds, but I won’t have hers. Who knows what I might catch,” his face turns a lovely shade of puce at my vindictive words.

  “Before I sign these, I need to know what I’ve done to you that’s so bad that it makes you want to keep hurting me? I don’t know how on earth you sleep at night from all the lies and the guilt. Don’t tell me that you don’t feel guilty. I know you Alex; it’s written all over your face,” I taunt, “you know deep down that I’m right.”

  His face twists in a mask of anger; his legs jiggling up and down in a blatant sign of irritation. It gives me a perverse sense of pleasure knowing that my words have hit their target. “I’ll have my attorney look over them and if they’re satisfied I’ll sign.”

  “Just make sure you sign the damn papers, Summer.” He growls, unfolding his large frame and heading towards the door.

  “Why the rush, Alex? What happened to being ‘best friends’? Why change your mind?” I call out after him, knowing full well I’m provoking him. He stops and turns to look at me. I seize that moment to take, what I assume to be, one last look at the man I love…loved.

  What I see makes me gasp in shock. I’d been so caught up with the divorce papers that I hadn’t noticed his blood-shot eyes that couldn’t seem to focus; nor did I see the gray translucence to his skin. Instead of the tall, commanding, handsome man I once knew it’s a wraith that stands before me. His clothes hang off him; his face is gaunt and troubled. He cuts me off before I can ask him what is going on.

  “You want to know? Really want to know Summer.” He’s breathing heavily as if trying to control his emotions.

  Slowly, I nod my head.

  “I thought… I thought... FUCK!” He yells, clutching his hair in his hands. “I made a mistake marrying you, Summer. We should have stayed friends but I panicked knowing that you had to go home. I forced myself into believing that I loved you in that way,” he gives me a wry smile, “and it worked. For a while anyway…” he tails off,

  “when I met Rachel, I knew that we’d been living a lie. We’d been coasting Sum, not going anywhere. You have no ambition, no drive. Hell, you don’t want to go out and party. If I’m honest, having sex with you... was boring. It’d become a chore. I knew it was the end for us when I struggled to get it up for you. Christ, it was like being married to a fucking nun.” Every word he says is like a knife to my heart, it couldn’t hurt more even if he ripped it out of my chest and stomped on it.

  “Rachel, well she’s the opposite of you. She just has to look at me and I’m hard.” All the power that I’d thought I’d gained from having the upper hand ebbs out of me. I can feel the tears as they track down my cheeks at his brutal words. I tell myself that he is lying, that he only wants to hurt me. It’s my own fault - I pushed him to this.

  His anger starts to abate as he sees my tears, almost as if he read my thoughts he says tenderly, “what I said in the hospital, I wasn’t lying when I said that I wanted to be friends. Maybe one day we’ll be able to put this all behind us.” Alex looks almost shamefaced as he admits, “I love you Summer. I’m just not in love with you.”

  “You don’t mean that,” I cry, almost collapsing.

  “Summer!” Alex rushes forward, taking me in his arms and mumbles that he’s sorry into my hair. I breathe in his masculine scent, finding comfort for a brief moment in his strong arms before the reality of our situation can bring me crashing back down to earth with a bump. He gently releases his hold on me, pushing me back while holding on to the tops of my arms. His eyes desperately search mine for something unknown; before he leans down, crashing his lips to mine. Instead of rejecting him, I open my mouth to Alex, allowing his tongue to mate with mine in a ferocious dance. My hands snake into his hair as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush to him so that I can feel his hard length. A little voice tells me to push him away, to stop this before it goes too far. I know we shouldn’t be doing this; my body isn’t fully recovered and I know that my heart will be broken again, right at this moment I don’t care. A fire that I have not felt in a long time burns within me and only he can extinguish the flames.

  Just as I’m about to let my heart overrule my head Alex shoves me roughly away from him. Luckily, the soft cushions of the couch break my fall.

  “What the hell, Alex?” Confused I look up at him, touching my hand to my lips.

  In those few short moments he’s put as much space as possible between us, using the small coffee table as barrier.

  He looks stricken.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s not fair on you and it’s not fair on Rachel.”

  With sickening irony, it suddenly dawns on me that the reason he is so horrified is that he thinks that he has cheated on Rachel. “I should go,” he says hurriedly.

  Numbly, I nod my head in agreement, “yes, you should.”

  I sit staring straight ahead as I hear the lock of the apartment door open, which prompts me to jump of the sofa and run after him.

  “Alex,” he turns to look at me as he steps out into the hall, his face awash with grief. “Just, tell me one thing,” he silently dips his head in agreement, “what is she to you?”

  He looks down the hallway, as if searching for an answer before saying quietly, “she’s the love of my life.”

  As I watch him walk away, my stomach twists in knots with the painful realization that what we had was really gone. I meant nothing to him, not anymore. I probably never had.

  ALEX

  The lies fall so easily out of my mouth that I’m beginning to wonder what the actual truth is. My heart and my head scream at me to go back and tell her that I’m lying but I keep on walking away from her. It’s easier this way, too much damage has already been done. At least now Summer will move on with someone who deserves her, who’ll treat her right and not break her heart. That someone isn’t me.

  SUMMER

  A COUPLE OF DAYS LATER, despite Violet’s protests that I’m in no fit state to be doing anything stressful or strenuous, I find myself sat waiting in the depressingly bright and sleek reception area of Platten & Honeysett, Attorneys at Law. The walls are awash with varying shades of green that compliments the dark wood of the furniture. On the same walls hang beautiful watercolors of scenes from around the Bay area interspersed with the cheerfully smiling photographs of all the staff. The overall effect is incredibly friendly, down to earth and calming - the complete opposite to the Wells & Bromley offices.

  It was not what I was expecting when I walked in to the unassuming building twenty minutes earlier, and especially not from attorneys who mainly deal with divorce.

  It hadn’t even occurred to me that the office would be anything other than a dark, gloomy place with weary faced employees. Employees for whom, from having to see clients lives disintegrate on a daily basis, work had become nothing but a chore.

  As I slowly made my way up the office steps and through the glass doors, I’d tried to picture what I would be walking into. In my mind, I saw a clinical gray reception room filled with desks, tables and chairs that hadn’t been changed since the 1980’s. Everything would be tatty and need to be replaced. I was pleasantly surprised to have been proved wrong. That’s what you get for assuming the worst.

  I guess I was so taken aback because their charges were a quarter of the cost of all the other laws firms that I’d contacted. I honestly thought that I would be engaging one hell of dodgy outfit, like you see on T.V. shows about corrupt law firms. Instead, I’m sat drinking a calming cup of chamomile tea while the bubbly, mauve-haired receptionist called Casey, asks me all sorts of questions about England and tells me how much she would love to visit there. Her natural enthusiasm for all things English instantly puts me at ease.

  “Mrs. Thorson?” A smiling, dark haired woman in her thirties, walking towards me with her hand outstretched interrupts my thoughts. Her intelligent, warm haze
l eyes twinkle behind expensive tortoiseshell glasses as she takes my hand. “Hi, I’m Lou Platten. I’ll be handling your case.” She says gesturing for me to follow her.

  As I walk into her office, I see picture upon picture of a sweet, flaxen-haired girl with the brightest sky blue eyes you’ve ever seen. I wonder for a minute if our baby would have looked like that; blonde haired with green eyes like mine.

  I’m so engrossed looking at the pictures that I jump when I hear Ms. Platten clear her throat causing me to whip around quickly as though I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

  She shakes her head and chuckles, giving me a massive beaming smile, “lovely isn’t she?” She beams with pride, “going through the terrible twos at the moment though.” Ms. Platten rolls her eyes and indicates for me to take a seat. “Do you have children at all?”

  It’s a polite, friendly question and yet I feel myself tear up.

  “No, I…” I take a deep, shuddering breath and try to force myself not to cry, “I recently lost…” I say, unable to carry on. With amazing speed, the kind attorney moves out from behind her desk grabbing a box of tissues on the way and sits beside me on the comfortable black leather chair. She takes my hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze as I let the tears flow in rivulets down my cheeks. “I. I’m sorry,” I stutter mortified that I have burst into tears in front of a total stranger.

  “Don’t be,” she says gently handing me a tissue, “believe me you’re not the first person to cry in here and I doubt that you’ll be the last.” She gives my hand a little pat before heading to a table behind me, allowing time for the tears to subside. “Why don’t we start from the beginning, Mrs. Thorson,” she says placing a glass of water in my hand.

  “Summer, my name is Summer.”

  I’m awarded with a massive beam, “Nice to meet you Summer. You can call me Lou.”