I arrive home for dinner, the meal that my wife Emily is preparing tonight. I want to talk to her; the conversation ahead wont be easy, so I start with, Ive got something to tell you. She doesnt answer, just turns back to the stove. I see the familiar ache in her eyes once more.
I have to keep the talk going, so I blurt out that we need to get a divorce. She asks, Why? I cant give her an answer and dodge the question. Anger flashes across her face; she throws a tantrum, hurling anything she can grab at me. Youre not a man, she shouts.
Theres nothing more to say. I head to the bedroom, lie down, and cant fall asleep for hours while I hear her sobbing. Its hard to explain whats happened to our marriage; I dont know what to say. How do I tell her Ive stopped loving her, that all thats left is pity, that Ive given my heart to Jane?
The next morning I prepare all the paperwork for the divorce and the division of assets. I leave Emily the house, the car, and thirty percent of the shares in my business. She smiles, rips up the papers and says she wants nothing from me, then breaks down in tears again. I feel a pang of regret for ten years together, but her reaction only strengthens my resolve to end it.
That evening I get home late, skip dinner and go straight to bed. Emily sits at the kitchen table, writing something. In the middle of the night I wake to find her still at the desk, pen in hand. Im indifferent to what shes doing; I no longer feel any closeness with her.
In the morning she tells me she has conditions for the divorce. She insists we keep a friendly relationship for as long as we can. Her argument is convincing: in a month our son Oliver has his school exams, and she worries the news will unsettle him. I cant argue with that. Her second condition sounds absurd: for a whole month she wants me to carry her out of the bedroom each morning and walk her to the front door, as a reminder of the night I first brought her home after the wedding.
I dont argue; Im indifferent. At work I tell Jane about the request, and she snorts, calling it a pathetic attempt by my wife to manipulate me back into the family.
On the first day I lift Emily into my arms and feel awkward. Were strangers to each other. Oliver spots us and cheers, Dads carrying Mum! Emily whispers, Dont say anything to him I set her down by the front door, and she heads toward the bus stop.
The second day feels more natural. I notice, for the first time, the fine lines around her eyes and a few grey hairs. Shes poured so much warmth into our marriagehow could I ever repay her?
A small spark begins to glow between us, growing a little each day. I also notice Emily becoming lighter to carry. I say nothing to Jane.
On the final day, just as Im about to lift her, I find her by the wardrobe, upset that shes lost a lot of weight recently. She really has become very thin. Our son wanders in and asks when Dad will carry Mum again, treating it like a family tradition. I hoist her up, feeling exactly as I did on our wedding night. She gently wraps her arms around my neck. The only thing that bothers me now is her weight.
I set her down, grab the car keys and rush to work. Meeting Jane, I tell her I dont want a divorce; our feelings have cooled only because we stopped paying attention to each other. Jane slaps me and runs off, tears streaming.
All I really want is to see Emily. I bolt from the office, dash to the nearest florist, and buy the most beautiful bouquet. When the shopkeeper asks what Id like on the card, I write, It would be my happiness to carry you in my arms until the very end.
I get home, heart light, a smile on my face, and race up the stairs to the bedroom. Emily lies on the bedshes dead.
Later I learn she had been bravely fighting cancer for the past few months. She never told me anything, and I never saw it because I was preoccupied with Jane. Emily was an incredibly wise woman; she devised those divorce conditions so I wouldnt become a monster in Olivers eyes after the split.
I hope my story helps someone keep their family together. Many people give up not knowing they were only a step away from a breakthrough.
