“Babe! I-I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to!” Tiana’s voice shook. “I was scared you’d go too far and someone would die…”
Then, she said, “I-I already called 911!”
As I blacked out, I was probably wearing a bitter smile.
See? That was my loving wife, trying to protect her childhood crush and smashed a vase over my head, her husband, to protect him.
When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed. My skull throbbed like it had split in two.
“Chaz, don’t move. You just got more than a dozen stitches…” said a familiar voice.
I shut my eyes and let out a dry laugh. “Did you sign the divorce papers? Once I’m discharged, we’ll go to City Hall and file.”
Tiana’s sobbing cut off. “You’re still thinking about divorce?”
She stared at me, stunned, tears dripping onto the back of my hand. “Charles, I love you. The second I saw you were hurt, I called an ambulance. What’s gotten into you?”
I couldn’t help the cold laugh. “You love me? So you smashed a porcelain vase to my head?”
If that was love, I would rather she loved another man.
My question caught her off guard and quickly defended herself.
“Charles, I was panicking! You looked possessed, you were choking Eddie so hard you terrified us.”
“You know Eddie's and my families have been neighbors for decades. Eddie and I grew up together—like, diapers-on kind of childhood.”
“He was trying to help, to talk us down. How could you say those things about him?”
“Enough,” I cut her off, icy. “Explain all you want; I’m not listening. What I care about is that: we’re divorcing.”
Even my eavesdropping in-laws traded baffled looks at my response. They hadn’t expected me to be this resolute, so the couldn't stay silent. My in-laws finally walked into the room.
My father-in-law said, trying to take my side at first, “Chuck, you’re not usually this cold. Be honest—did Tiana do something that upset you? Tell me and I’ll set her straight.”
Before I could answer, he shifted gears. “Or is there someone else? We’re both men here—don’t let some temptress cloud your judgment and ruin your life.”
Meanwhile, my mother-in-law’s patience wore thin. She chimed in from the side, “Every couple fights. You argue at night and make up by morning. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“A man should have a little backbone. If you bring up divorce every time things get hard, how are you supposed to build a life together?”
Tiana was more patient than usual. She held my hand and asked softly, “Babe, what’s really going on? Tell me and we’ll fix it together. You’re this determined to leave… are you… Did something happened to you? Something you couldn't tell?”
Her careful, anxious eyes trembled. More tears fell. “No matter what you’re facing, I won’t abandon you. You don’t have to be afraid of dragging me down.”
I looked at her without expression.
All these years together, the moment she cried, I always caved. Whatever she asked for, I agreed to.
When she wanted to clear out a room and turn it into an art studio—I said yes...
