Unbreakable

             7:00 pm. Mark should have been home an hour ago. He hadn’t called. Susan was used to it by now. Throughout their ten-year marriage, he would do this—go out drinking with his buddies after work, no matter what other plans he and Susan might have had. So many nights Susan would cook and sit up waiting for him, the carefully prepared meal getting stone cold on the kitchen table, candles in the early days burning down to nubs. By ten o’clock she would eat despondently and put the leftovers away for him, only to be awakened around two or three in the morning by his whiskey breath and wandering hands. Often, she could smell a strange perfume on him as well. Who else had he been with? Too many nights, Susan cried herself to sleep over Mark. She was sick of it all now.

             Tonight, the old stove only made a meal for one, Susan’s favorite meal, a vegetarian pasta with garlic and cherry tomatoes. Mark would scoff at vegetarian food; he was a meat and potatoes kind of guy. Susan poured herself a glass of Italian white wine that she bought at the new wine shop in town. She’d been taking sommelier classes there to learn more about wines. She thought she might try to get a job at the new winery up in the mountains doing tastings and then, maybe one day, Italy. This particular pinot grigio was light-bodied and crisp, with dominant flavors of green apple and crisp pear. She thought she could taste a faint almond note on the finish. It was quite the refreshing bottle. Susan decided that she liked it.

             Mark knew nothing about wine, the delights of pasta, or Italy. He drank cheap beer and bottom shelf whiskey, the kind that came in plastic bottles, and his idea of fine dining was the Cracker Barrel. When he drank, which was daily, he wanted the quickest high he could get. The taste of the grapes and the art of the pairings with food were lost on him. His idea of a great time was a loud, dirty bar with dollar shots and desperate women. That scene was fun when they were 18 and getting drunk fast was the illicit point, but now, it all seemed pathetic and desperate. There was a world outside Mark’s hole in the wall bars, and Susan wanted to drink it all in.

             Susan laughed to herself thinking about the women. Mark thought she didn’t know, but he wasn’t exactly subtle about it. Every time he dumped one of them, and there were many, they would come running to Susan to get their revenge. Mindy at the bank thought he was going to marry her. Ha, one marriage was more than enough for Mark. Darlene at the five and dime tried to claim she was pregnant, but Susan laughed and told her that Mark was sterile. Only Angela at the bar knew it was just a fling, but she told Susan all about it anyway. Susan and Angela became unlikely friends, probably because they both knew Mark was a fraud, and shared gossip about all his shenanigans over glasses of wine on Angela’s nights off. Despite what everyone thought, Susan had noticed every lipstick stain, every strange perfume scent, every unusual charge on their joint credit card. She knew it all before one of the women came to tell their story. Bit by bit, she absorbed the details of each sordid affair until a sort of chemical reaction began in her, hardening her.

             Tonight, Mark was probably out with Cindy, the new buxom blonde 19-year-old cashier at the electric company. It was the talk of the town, according to Angela. Cindy thought it was true love. Mark began wooing her when he forgot to pay the bill on time, again. All his side chicks had a use, until they didn’t. Cindy would figure that out in time. It used to hurt, Mark coming home so late smelling of liquor and other women. Susan would beat herself up, wondering what they had that she didn’t. She wasn’t quite sure when she stopped caring, but she did eventually stop caring. They could have him now.

             Susan finished her wine and began to clean up the kitchen. She put away the dishes she picked out before their wedding. Mark hadn’t really cared about the pattern, but Susan chose a delicate, classic bone-colored set with silver rings around the edges. The china pattern looked classy and upscale, something Mark would never be. He pawned their silver a year or two into their marriage to pay off gambling debts. He’d said it was to pay for his mother’s medical bills. Turned out, his mother was never sick. Mark’s relationship with the truth had always been flexible.

             As Susan finished wiping down the stove and the kitchen table, the ring of the phone pulled her out of her reverie. It was Angela from the bar.

             “He’s here. With Cindy, hanging all over her like a hormonal teenager.”

             “Of course he is.”

             “You’re not surprised.”

             “Nothing surprises me about Mark anymore, Angela. You know that.”

             “So, you’re still going through with it?”

             “Yes. Tonight.”

             “I’ll miss you, Sue.”

             “And I’ll miss you, Angie. Come visit me at the winery. Maybe you can get a job there too. It sure would be better than that dump of a bar.”

             “No doubt! Better clientele and better tippers, I’m sure.”

             “Don’t tell him, Angela.”

             “My lips are sealed, hon. Good luck and call me when you get settled.”

             Susan finished her goodbyes to Angela and took one last look around the kitchen. It had been her dream kitchen when they first moved in. A gas stove with five burners and a big oven for baking, room for a kitchen table for breakfast with all the kids she dreamed of having with Mark, a large pantry for storing the canned fruits and vegetables she hoped to grow in their garden, none of it materialized. Turned out Mark was sterile, probably from a sexually transmitted disease. He was never home to help her with the garden like he promised. And he never came home in time to eat the food she cooked. Susan sighed and turned off the kitchen light.

             Entering her home office, Susan grabbed a folder and some envelopes from the desk. She’d spent the past month or so preparing for tonight—opening new bank accounts, transferring money, getting her name off any property and credit cards that she held jointly with Mark, talking to an attorney to draw up divorce papers. She gathered all her personal documents, banking information, and identification and shoved them into her backpack. Her suitcases were already packed with all the personal belongings that she wanted to take with her. It wasn’t much, mostly clothes and the few things she’d brought from her family home. She didn’t want anything that reminded her of Mark. Susan planned to pawn her wedding and engagement rings for cash. She’d had them appraised, and they were the only genuine things left of the marriage. It was probably his mother that insisted that he give her a real diamond. Susan wasn’t sure how such a sorry excuse for a man came from that woman, but the universe has jokes sometimes.

             Susan picked up the second copy of the divorce papers and prepared to write a note to Mark. He needed to sign the papers, and she didn’t want him to give her a hard time about it. She stared for a long time at their wedding portrait on the wall, considering her words carefully, and then began to write.

             Dear Mark,

             Please read this in the morning when you’ve sobered up. This is not a fight or a phase. This is a very important letter so please read it carefully.

             I can’t do this any longer. I want a divorce. I’ve been sleeping alone for so long that I don’t mind it anymore. The more you stayed out, the less I stopped wondering about you until I stopped waiting for you to come home entirely. The drunker you got, the more sober I got, until I finally realized that I no longer need you. And if you think it’s about the women, it’s not. Yes, I know about them, but I really don’t care. What you do just doesn’t faze me anymore. I’m completely numb to you.

So please, make this easy on both of us, and sign the divorce papers I’ve enclosed with this letter. You can have the house and everything in it. I’ve left my house key under the mat in the garage. I’ve only taken my clothes and what I brought from my family’s. You can have your salary. I’ve only taken my last check out of our bank account. I don’t want any support. I’m moving on to another place and another job. I just want a clean separation. Please don’t try to find me or persuade me to come home.

Whatever love that may have been there is gone. I don’t love you anymore. There’s nothing you can do to change that. I think you know it deep down if you really think about it. Every time you walked out that door, every time you broke your promises, every time you lied, it broke something in me until I realized that you can’t break a woman who doesn’t love you anymore. And as I stand here tonight, I can honestly say that I don’t love you any longer. Your actions chipped away at the love I had for you until it finally just disappeared. When I realized that truth, I realized I had to set us both free.

I don’t wish you any ill will. You’ll find other women, Mark. I have no doubt about that. As for me, well, I’m going to look out for myself for once. Take care of yourself.

Goodbye,

Susan

Susan capped her pen and glanced once more around the place she had called home for ten years. She placed the note and the divorce papers on the kitchen island, where Mark would see them eventually. Imagining him looking for her, Susan could see him trying the bedroom first, assuming her to be asleep. Depending on how drunk he was, he might search the rest of the house, or he might pass out thinking her to be in the bathroom or elsewhere in the house. It wasn’t her problem anymore.

Preparing to leave, Susan grabbed her suitcases and her backpack and put them in her car trunk. She had a full tank of gas, enough to get her to the mountain winery if she drove all night. Susan pulled a soda from the refrigerator to help her stay awake and turned on the porch light for Mark before she left. Despite everything, she didn’t wish him harm. She didn’t feel anything for him really. She checked once more to make sure she had everything she needed.

Glancing at the night sky above her soon to be former home, Susan saw Orion, the Hunter, rising just above the horizon. She smiled. It was a fitting omen, she hoped, for this new chapter of her life. Carefully closing the door of her old home, Susan trotted down the front steps, flipped the radio on in her car, and drove off into the starry night, feeling free and empowered for the first time in her adult life.