by Ford, Mia
I guess I should have seen the signs when a month into our marriage, Jordan was hounding me about getting pregnant, but in my love haze, I just thought it was him wanting a family with me. So, I agreed and set an appointment to have a full work up done at the doctors to make sure I was physically ready to carry a child. I remember not feeling nervous at all as the doctor came back into the room, a somber look on her face. She showed me pictures, spouted off numbers, gave me possible treatments, but in the end, all I could hear were my dreams of a family slipping down the drain. Apparently, I had some rare condition that made getting pregnant almost impossible. Everything stopped dead in its tracks, and I rode back to our home in silence, just wanting Jordan’s arms wrapped around me. Little did I know, that would not be his reaction. Instead, he lashed out, screaming that I had tricked him into a childless marriage, that I couldn’t give him what he wanted, that I was a failure and less of a woman.
He moved out that night, packing up to stay at his apartment in the city. I sat quietly in shock in my living room, watching the flames of the fire trickle down to nothing, just like our relationship had done in the blink of an eye. The next week was like a dream, where I was floating in and out of emotional states, trying to get a handle on my life. Just two days after that, I received the divorce papers, which were embarrassingly delivered to my office instead of our home. I signed for the papers, looking up to see Jordan scowling at me from the corner. Since then, it’s been nothing but hell, and though I was completely heartbroken that the man I loved ditched me over something I couldn’t control, I just really wanted everything to be over. I looked up at the clock and sighed. Jordan was late as usual. The silence in the room was deafening, and his lawyer looked up at me with a half-smile. I focused on keeping it together, not breaking down, and not letting him see any more tears from me. He didn’t deserve to bask in my pain, and I realized I didn’t even recognize the man who wanted to end our marriage. I wanted to go home and be alone, where I could start to reassemble my life and get back to normal, whatever that was.
The sound of the clock ticking on the wall was echoing through my brain. Where the hell was he? He was the one who wanted this divorce in the first place. Why he couldn’t be here on time was beyond me. Technically, he wanted an annulment, and I wasn’t sure what the difference was. It didn’t matter to me what the title was. All it boiled down to was that I wasn’t the girl he wanted because I couldn’t give him children. I felt like the King’s wife, having been found sterile, banished to the towers to live her life out in shame.
“We’ve waited long enough,” my attorney said. “I think we should just go ahead and move forward.”
“Agreed,” the other attorney replied.
Just then, the door opened and in sauntered Jordan, no hurry or worry on his face at all. I shook my head at his arrogance and placed my hands in my lap. I didn’t want to even look at him, and I realized quickly how anger toward him had turned him completely undesirable to me. Besides, I knew he wasn’t out there mourning the loss of his marriage. He was a playboy through and through, and he had probably started sleeping around before I even got the papers. I grimaced at the thought of being married to a man like that.
“Sorry I was late,” he said arrogantly. “I had a meeting.”
“A meeting you didn’t need to go to,” I replied. He had forgotten I was the supervisor of his floor.
I kept my eyes glued on the table in front of me, not wanting to look at him for even a second. I could feel his eyes darting back and forth across the room as he, too, tried to avoid all eye contact with me. It was horribly awkward and painful to sit through, especially when, three months before, we were gazing into each other’s eyes and committing our lives to one another. I shook my head, thinking about our wedding day, wondering what had happened to make the sweet and kind man I had married turn into an obnoxious primidone with no heart. Then again, maybe it was all for show. Maybe he was never that kind loving man I thought I knew, and after getting married, he realized it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I had heard stories about Jordan before we started dating, but his personality and those stories never seemed to match up. I shrugged them off as nothing more than gossip or jealousy. Now, though, looking back and comparing the stories to this stranger sitting across from me, it all made perfect sense. He was a coward, and I couldn’t believe I’d fallen so hard for his ridiculous lies. There was no way you could love someone the way he said he loved me and then dump them on their ass the next day as if they never meant anything to you. It was cruel and harsh, and I was tired of being treated with no respect.
“Alright,” his lawyer began. “Both parties have agreed this marriage has reached its finality. In regard to their personal belongings, seeing as the couple was married three months prior, they have agreed to the following terms: The house in the Greek District, purchased by Ms. Wells prior to their marriage, will stay in her possession, including all items minus Mr. Bank’s personal effects. The apartment in Manhattan, purchased by Mr. Banks prior to marriage, will stay in his possession, including all items minus Ms. Well’s personal effects. Each will continue to possess their personal vehicles purchased before the marriage. In regard to the joint bank account started two and half months ago, Mr. Bank’s has relinquished all rights, and the money has been signed over in the form of a cashier’s check to Ms. Wells.”
The attorney slid an envelope across the table, and I put my hand over it, shutting my eyes, and trying to remind myself to keep it together. I bet giving me that bank account made him feel good, like he had done the right thing. All twenty-two thousand dollars of it, a price he found fair for putting me through so much grief and agony. I didn’t want the damn money that had been put in there to start a fund for our child’s education, the child we would never have. It was almost like he was taking a jab at me for not being able to have children. I grasped my hand around the envelope and slid it into my purse.
“If all parties are in agreeance,” the attorney continued. “Ms. Wells, you need to initial in these three spots and sign at the bottom. Mr. Banks, you will do the same.”
I clutched the pen tightly as I scribbled my name through the legal document. As he pulled the papers toward him, I could hear the tip of the pen scratch across the paper. With every curve of his name, my heart sunk lower and lower, until the tears were burning at the corners of my eyes.
“Well, if that is all,” my attorney said.
“That was easy,” Jordan said in a jovial tone.
I slammed my hands on the desk and shoved the chair back behind me, looking up and staring deeply into his eyes. He looked taken back, almost scared for a moment, but he wasn’t worth the extra breath to explain what he’d done to me. I turned and walked from the room before he could even stand. I sped through the courthouse, tears beginning to blind me as I pushed out onto the sidewalk and jogged toward the garage where my car was parked. Fumbling with my keys, I dropped them twice before finally getting the car open. As soon as the door slammed shut, I grabbed the steering wheel and let my resolve release. Tears dampened my face as the pain in my chest plummeted to my belly. That was it, the love I thought I had for a lifetime was gone with the stroke of a pen.
Chapter 3
Jason
The day was moving by at a glacial pace, and for some reason, I couldn’t get my brother’s divorce from Tiffany off my mind. Everything had gone down the day before, and I had made sure to steer clear of the family dinner. I knew if I heard him gloating about his divorce, or celebrating in any way, I might not be able to keep myself from jumping over the table and hitting him in the head with one of mother’s silver platters. Instead, I propped my feet up on the couch and watched television until it was time for bed, something I didn’t do very often. Laying there, my mind had wandered all over the place, trying to imagine what Tiffany was doing. I knew she was struggling. I mean, how could she not be? She had been blindsided by her husband during a time in her life when she’d needed him the mos
t, and then, he’d cast her aside, leaving her to clean up the mess. I shook my head as I stared at my computer screen, trying to wrap my head around the fact that she was done so dirty and done so by my own blood. It was almost embarrassing to think Jordan and I were related.
Growing up, we’d gotten along well enough, both knowing our lives were pretty much mapped out for us. In college, I distinctly remembered Jordan pulling me to the side and pointing Tiffany out to me. She was just as beautiful then as she was now, if not more. Her long blond hair would blow in the wind whipping across the campus courtyard, and her smile lit up my world. Apparently, it lit up Jordan’s too because from then on, he was determined to get this girl. When our father announced the new pool of employees for the company, I thought my brother’s head was going to pop off. Tiffany was strong, assertive, and just the woman this company needed to propel us forward. She had worked her way up quickly, and though the whispers said it was because of her relationship with Jordan, those of us who knew her understood it was because of the type of woman she was. My brother had started to change, calming down a bit, staying away from the bars and clubs, and devoting his time to her. I thought about how lucky everyone was that Tiffany had come into our lives, especially since she had a way with Jordan that no one else did. Part of me couldn’t help but think this was all more because he wanted to be single than it was over a family, but either way, he had used that as his cause. It had hit home hard.
I could hear Jordan out in the hallway flirting with the new secretary and for some reason, it fucking pissed me off. I scooted back from the desk and stood in the doorway staring at him as he leaned over her, showing her something in the paperwork on her desk. I strolled over to the desk and tapped on the wood, drawing both of their attention.
“You seem pretty happy,” I said looking him in the eyes. “I thought since you just got divorced yesterday, you might be in a bad mood, or sad, or any of those human emotions we tend to have.”
Jordan’s face faded from smiling to irritation as he stared over the desk at me. I smiled back at him, my hands in my pockets. He looked down at the secretary and smirked, pointing one more thing out before standing up. He cleared his throat and straightened his tie.
“Sorry about that,” he said to the secretary before moving forward and grabbing me by the arm and dragging me into my office. “What the hell? What is your damn problem?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said smartly. “The fact that you broke it off with your wife for something she couldn’t control? The fact that it was one of the biggest dick moves I have ever seen, which is saying something.”
“Look,” he whispered angrily. “It’s none of your God damned business, but if you must know, it wasn’t an easy decision for me. I know you are sitting over there imagining this evil nemesis making plans to completely ruin Tiffany, but that is not at all how it went. This was hard on me. I’m just not going to walk around wearing it on my face. I sat on this information for a while before I decided to divorce her. I was miserable, beat down, and didn’t know what to do. I did know I wanted a child of my own, a baby that came from me, and she couldn’t give that to me. I knew if I continued in that relationship, no matter how much I loved her—which I do love her very much—then I would just end up resenting her in the end. I thought it was better to end it upfront than wait until years down the road, when it would get harder to walk away. So there, I hope you are happy.”
He dropped his hand to his waist and walked out the door, slamming it as he left. Maybe I was being a little too hard on Jordan. Maybe I wasn’t there to help him through this when I should have been. Everything he was saying made perfect sense, and I couldn’t fault him for ending something he knew would eventually end in a fiery blaze anyway. I guess in a way he saved Tiffany years of disappointment, fighting, and ultimately, a really nasty divorce. Still, I couldn’t help but think he didn’t really let the news sink in before making the decision to get divorced. I felt like he did what he always did, which was making a major life choice based on emotion, not rational thought. Unfortunately for everyone around Jordan, when he thought with emotions, he was the only one who didn’t get the shit end of the stick. I took a deep breath and walked out into the hall, looking both ways but not seeing Jordan. I turned right and walked down the hallway, glancing into Tiffany’s empty dark office. As I turned, Tiffany’s secretary walked up behind me.
“Hey,” she said cheerfully. “Hey. Um, do you know if Tiffany will be coming back anytime soon?”
“I don’t really know,” she said shaking her head. “She is on sick leave right now.”
“Okay,” I smiled letting out a deep breath. “Thanks, I’ll just try to give her a call.”
I walked back to my office and closed the door, turning my phone over in my hands. I didn’t know whether I should call Tiffany, this family probably being the last people she wanted to talk to. I didn’t even know what I was going to say when she answered, but I wanted to make sure she wasn’t going through this alone. I also wanted her to know no one in the family stood beside Jordan’s decision. In fact, I was pretty sure my parents didn’t know why Jordan was divorcing Tiffany because that would have made him look bad to our parents. Instead, he was a coward and joked his way through the conversation until my mother finally changed the subject. I did know that my mother and father loved Tiffany like their own daughter and were really worried about her. They didn’t want to intrude, knowing their son was the culprit behind her disappearance, but they were constantly whispering to one another about how she was doing. If nothing else, maybe I could be the middle man between them.
I scanned through my contacts and pressed call when it landed on Tiffany. I pulled my cell phone to my ear and listened to it rang on the other end. After several rings, the voicemail picked up, but before the beep, I hung up, not knowing what I would say on an answering machine. Tiffany and I weren’t close by any stretch of the imagination, but I had never called her and not gotten an answer. We always were in contact with the business, and she was very serious about her career, something I admired in her. So, anytime I called her, she immediately picked up, knowing I wouldn’t call unless it was important. I guess today she wasn’t in much of a mood to care about whether the business needed her help or not, and I really couldn’t blame her. She was employed at a company soon to belong to her ex-husband, working alongside him at every turn. If I were her, this would be the last place I would show up and deal with Jordan flirting with girls right in front of her.
Still, there was something that really worried me about the fact that she wasn’t answering the phone. She was in a very fragile state, and from the way my brother phrased giving her their joint bank account as a parting gift, I could only imagine how that slap in the face must have felt. To really think about it, I probably would stay away from the office too, but more so that I didn’t try to murder Jordan in his designer suit, at his own mahogany desk.
I leaned back in my chair, trying to put Tiffany out of my mind, still perplexed as to why all of this was affecting me so damn bad. Sure, I thought Tiffany was gorgeous, kind, sweet, and intelligent, but she was now my brother’s ex-wife, and not really someone I should be comforting during a divorce. I may have a big heart, but I also knew the very important value of family and support. In Jordan’s case, it was difficult for me to show support when I didn’t agree with anything he did. When you felt like your own blood was out there completely obliterating a woman because she couldn’t have children. The thought itself was absolutely mind-boggling, and I needed to make sure she was okay. She deserved so much better than that on so many levels. It probably wouldn’t make anything easier, but I thought she should know she wasn’t alone. Before I could give the thought any more attention, my father stuck his head into my office.
“Can I come in?” He smoothed the lapel of his thousand-dollar suit, a charcoal gray that paired well with his perfectly coiffed black peppered hair. I only hoped I aged as well and looked as good as my father wh
en I got older.
“Sure, Dad, come on in.” I cleared my desk and shut my laptop. “What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to make sure you were doing okay,” he said smiling. “I know with the divorce and everything else going on with Jordan and Tiffany, he may not be the most reliable person right now. And she won’t be back for about a month, which kills me because she’s my right-hand woman. Don’t get me wrong. I completely understand why she would want to be at home. She has handled all of this with grace and dignity, and I want to make sure we do the same with her.”
“Absolutely,” I said nodding my head. “And I am all here, so anything you need you just come and grab me.”
“Thanks, son,” he said tapping his fist on the desk. “Oh, your mother wanted to know if you were coming to dinner Friday?”
“I have plans right now, but I’m not sure what time they start,” I replied. “I’ll let her know as soon as I can.”
“No problem,” he said. “We missed you at the last dinner.”
“Missed you, too,” I said, watching him walking from the office.
In all reality, missing me was probably the farthest thing from their minds. They missed Tiffany and the light she brought to the table every time she approached. I wasn’t going to lie. I missed her, too, maybe too much.
Chapter 4
Tiffany
I pulled my soft plush blanket from the dryer and wrapped it around my shoulders, soaking in the warmth it brought to my body. I sighed, rubbing the fabric against my cheek and dragging myself to the couch. I looked at the display I had laid out on the table in front of me. There were several bottles of wine, some snacks, a lot of junk food, and about five cheesy romance movies. It was like the divorced woman’s starter pack, and I had bought right into it. I had spent the week pretty much asleep most of the time and decided it was time I take the next step, moving my body from the bed to the couch and shoving useless calories, hand over fist, into it. I knew it was pathetic and not grown up of me at all, but my heart was broken, my brain was tired, and I still hadn’t had the chance to come to terms with being infertile, with not bearing my own children. It was extraordinarily depressing and read like one of the movies I was about to watch, except there was no happily ever after in my case.
