I got home for dinner Lucy was whipping up a meal that night. Id got a heavy talk to have with her, so I kicked off with, Ive got something I need to tell you She didnt answer, just kept stirring. I could see that familiar ache in her eyes again.
I had to keep the conversation going, so I blurted out that I wanted a divorce. She asked straight away, Why? I couldnt give her a proper answer, I just dodged the question.
She snapped, threw a fit, and started hurling everything she could grab at me. Youre not a man, she shouted. There wasnt much more to say. I headed off to bed, but I couldnt sleep; I could hear her sobbing. I didnt know how to explain what had gone wrong with our marriage, what to say when Id stopped loving her years ago, that all I felt left was pity, and that Id given my heart to Jane.
The next morning I gathered all the paperwork for the divorce and the split of assets. Id offered Lucy the house, the car, and 30% of my companys shares. She just smirked, tore the papers up and said she didnt need anything from me. Then she broke down again. I felt a pang for the ten years wed spent together, but her reaction only cemented my decision to end things.
That night I came back late, skipped dinner and went straight to the bedroom. Lucy was sitting at the kitchen table, scribbling something. I woke up in the middle of the night to find her still writing, perched at her desk. I didnt care what she was doing the closeness we once had was gone.
In the morning she laid out her conditions for the split. She wanted us to stay on good terms as long as we could, arguing it was best for our son, who had exams coming up in a month. She said the news would rattle his nerves. I couldnt argue with that. Her second demand was absurd: for a whole month I had to carry her out of the bedroom each morning, up to the front door, as a reminder of the day I first brought her home after we were married.
I didnt argue; I was indifferent. At work I mentioned the request to Jane, and she snorted, calling it a pathetic attempt by my wife to manipulate me back into the family.
When I first lifted Lucy in my arms that day, I felt awkward. Wed become strangers. Our son saw us and shouted, Dads carrying Mum! and Lucy whispered, Dont say anything to him I set her down by the front door and she shuffled off to the bus stop.
The next day it felt a bit more natural. I even noticed the fine lines and a few grey hairs on her face that Id never paid attention to before. All the warmth shed poured into our marriage what had I done to repay her?
A tiny spark began to flicker between us, growing a little each day. I also realized she seemed lighter, easier to hold. I kept quiet about it with Jane.
On the last day, I found Lucy by the wardrobe, upset about how much weight shed lost lately. Shed really dropped a lot. Our son burst in and asked when Dad would carry Mum again, as if it were a family tradition. I lifted her, feeling exactly like our wedding day. She wrapped her arms lightly around my neck. The only thing that nagged at me was her frail weight.
I set her down, grabbed the car keys and rushed back to the office. I ran into Jane and told her I didnt want a divorce after all; our feelings had gone cold because we stopped giving each other attention. She slapped me and ran off in tears.
Deep down I just wanted to see Lucy. I bolted out, popped into the nearest flower shop, bought the prettiest bouquet, and when the shopkeeper asked what I wanted on the card I wrote, It would be my joy to carry you forever, till the end of my days!
I got home, heart light, a grin on my face, and hurried up the stairs to the bedroom. Lucy lay there she was dead.
Later I learned shed been fighting cancer bravely for months. She never told me anything, and I never saw it because I was tangled up with Jane. Lucy was a remarkably wise woman shed invented those divorce conditions so I wouldnt become the monster in our sons eyes after the split.
I hope my story helps someone hold on to their family. Lots of folks throw in the towel, not realizing theyre only a step away from making it work.
