Chapter 4

The day I asked for the divorce was a Saturday.

After dinner, the two boys were in their room doing homework.

Leona was clearing the dishes, and I sat on the couch watching her back.

The longer I watched, the more irritated I got.

Just fed up.

"Leona, come sit down. There's something I want to tell you."

She set down the rag in her hand, wiped her hands on her apron, and came over to sit across from me.

"What is it?"

I lit a cigarette and took a drag.

"Let's get divorced."

Her body went stiff for a second.

"What?"

"Divorce." I flicked the ash off. "I can't do this anymore."

She looked at me and didn't say anything for a good while.

I figured she'd cry, make a scene, ask me why.

Instead she just asked, "Is it because of that woman?"

I paused.

She knew?

Whatever. It didn't matter if she did.

"It's got nothing to do with her," I said. "I just feel like there's nothing left to say between us."

"Brandon, can't we sit down and talk about this properly..."

"There's nothing to talk about."

Her lips trembled. "Then what about the kids?"

"You take the kids. I'll send you child support every month."

She lowered her head, her fingers twisting the hem of her shirt.

"I won't agree to it."

I laughed.

"You think it matters whether you agree?"

She lifted her head, her eyes going red. "Brandon, this home is something we built together—"

"Together, what?" I stubbed out the cigarette and stood up. "This home is what I earned. The house is in my name, the car I bought, the company is mine. What have you got?"

She froze where she stood.

"You're an orphan with no job and no income. Why would any court hand the kids to you? I've got plenty of money to hire lawyers. What are you going to fight me with?"

Her face went white.

"Don't use the kids to threaten me."

"Threaten you?" I looked down at her. "I'm telling you the facts. Be smart and sign. Be difficult, and you won't even get to see the kids."

Her hands were shaking.

I ignored her, grabbed my coat, and left.

Arlene had asked me out for a late-night bite, and I didn't want to sit at home looking at that face of hers.

Leona wouldn't sign, so I cut off her living expenses.

I canceled the supplementary credit card and changed the password on the household account.

She called me, asking why she couldn't withdraw any money.

I said, "Want money? Sign."

She was quiet for a long time, then said, "The kids' tuition is due."

"That's your problem."

"Brandon..."

I hung up.

A few days later, I brought Arlene home to pick up some things.

Not that I really needed anything. I just wanted to get under her skin.

Leona was cooking in the kitchen and came out when she heard the door.

When she saw Arlene on my arm, she froze.

Arlene spoke up with a bright smile. "So this must be his wife? I've heard so much about you."

Leona's face went ashen.

She was still holding a spatula, oil dripping from it onto the floor.

I ignored her and went straight upstairs to grab a few pieces of clothing.

When I came back down, she was still standing in the kitchen doorway, not moving.

Arlene leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Brandon, honey, looks like your wife's about to cry."

I glanced at Leona.

She wasn't crying.

But that look in her eyes, I couldn't quite name it. It was complicated.

Something like hatred, and something else too.

I couldn't be bothered with it. I took Arlene's hand and left.

A week later, Leona called me.

Her voice was very calm. "I agree to the divorce."

I paused. I hadn't expected it this fast.

"Fine. We'll go to the courthouse tomorrow."

She said okay.

When I hung up, I thought, if only she'd been this reasonable from the start. Why put us through all that grief.