The Thirty-Eighth Divorce's End

It's also the day my husband, Ethan, as

her car on our wedding day, leaving her unable to have children. Eve

ce and remarriage. But this time was differe

d promised me justice. He

ity footage of the incident had been mysteri

s her men tore at my clothes in the b

ected

as I ran for my life, bleeding o

e would be no 3

, I would

pte

fifth wedding

ty as the day I met him, all sharp angles in his eyes and the straight line of h

get a d

rrow. I merely watch him, a stillness settle

is is our ninth

yes. His gaze slides away from mine, findin

s, his voice a low current of sound. "She says she won't

off. "Hm

s. I've known through ei

this one last?" I

or the storm of tears or the shriek of recriminat

s. He reaches out as if to touch my shoulder, but his hand

tight set of his jaw, and I am struck by th

"After all, we

se staff kno

he bridge of her nose. She retrieves the familiar forms from a drawer, the moti

icable divor

ake the pen

inst the parchment, a sharp, decisive sound. He has mad

paper. I feel a brief, internal hesitation,

the ni

ntil my throat was raw an

I asked him, "W

... a confused smear

nd exchange a dry pleasantry with Martha.

ra Kemp. This time, I inscribe it with unusual care. Ea

Not on a roof, but right there on the co

and throws hersel

d choose me! I knew

der at me, his eyes filled with an emotion I can

push her away. "Ile

She snatches the divorce papers from his hand an

He's mine now. He

tch them. A profound wearines

ice is sharp with a

nd she starts to sob against his chest. "I'm sorry, E

, a malicious glint i

ora? To celebrate our ne

logy writ large. He is asking me with hi

't understand myse

t Ethan, her hand resting possessively on his leg. I sit in th

s. I watch him grip the steering wheel, his knuckles standing out whit

se. That has been his respons

drawing long, weeping lines down the

ago. Our

artist. Our love was a swift, consuming fire. He was possessed of a different sort of gentleness then. He would hol

. His childhood friend. The girl who was obsessiv

would say, brushing off my concerns.

ieved

in my white dress, his phone bu

not of cold unease tightening in my s

silenced his phone. It was the be

ere saying our vows, Ilene, drunk and hysteri

s a ruin of broken bones. The doctors told

, a weight that bent his shoulders. He felt

ormed. A debt he felt he, and

t. She was diagnosed with severe anxiety and depres

she would have a breakdown. A

me, Ethan wo

her demands. And her biggest demand

he held me as I cried and p

n, she would come to us, crying and apologizing

cycle wou

re

e t

soul. My paintbrushes gathered dust. The world, which had once presented i

l handsome, still the man I fell in love with. But he's also

et her sit in my seat. He's tak

n me, and in that silence, a sin

t time. There will b

one and send a t

m and D

st instantly. [

in an hour. W

him. For good this time. I want to mo

ng of worried emojis. My fa

re for you

a path down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away. I have c

tting next to Ethan, clinging to his arm like a chil

don't you? After everyt

k for her, pours her wine. People at other tables look

of furniture, pres

t slips, and a small sketchbook fal

it. Her f

ou trying to show off? Trying to

oss the table,

bowl of hot soup in front of her