The Divorce She Couldn't Afford

PROLOGUE

“I think we should get a divorce.”

I froze and looked up from the bite of French onion soup I was about to take. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. Certainly, he hadn’t said what he just did. On our anniversary, no less.

I eyed my husband across the table.

Seth Torres was handsome, confident, and successful, all the things he’d always wanted to be and so much more.

What he wasn’t, though, was a decent husband. I’d known it the minute he sat me down a few weeks ago and gave me an ultimatum—open marriage or divorce.

Of course, he’d laid out all his reasons for wanting an open marriage.

‘I’m in my prime and don’t feel like I should settle for just one woman for the rest of my life’.

Why get married then?

‘It could help us become more intimate’.

Doubtful, since he hadn’t touched me in months, and I got tired of throwing myself at him, only to be rejected again and again.

‘This kind of relationship will be perfect for us, since we aren’t planning on having kids, anyway.’

Uh, no. I wanted kids, always had. He said no, but only after we were married. Before that, he’d promised me we would start a family after he got settled in his career.

And reason number thirteen, though honestly, I’d zoned out after a while, so it could have been his thirteenth or thirtieth. Either way, it was definitely the nail in the coffin.

‘I’m not sexually attracted to you anymore, Melodie. Ever since your diagnosis, I feel like you’ve let yourself go, and I don’t want to see all that extra body fat while I’m having sex with you.’

He actually said that. To my face. As if I’d asked to get sick.

It wasn’t my fault that I’d put on extra weight. I still exercised and ate a balanced diet, but the medication I was taking for my autoimmune disease had caused me to put on a few pounds. Not a lot—at least, not to me—but apparently enough to become wildly undesirable.

The doctor had explained that with my rheumatoid arthritis being so severe, they had to put me on a high dosage of steroids to manage the inflammation and joint pains.

After that, they’d see about gradually lowering the dosage until they could come up with the right balance of medication and physical therapy.

Of course, a side effect of taking steroids in such high doses was weight gain.

But it wasn’t like I’d suddenly turned into a whale.

I’d put on maybe ten pounds, if that much.

Would he have preferred I not take the medicine and suffer?

Who was I kidding? Of course, he would. His image meant everything to him. Right down to the trophy wife.

Except I wasn’t a trophy wife. I was a kindergarten teacher, for Christ’s sake. So why was I allowing this man to make me feel less than I already did?

A part of me felt like he created this fantasy in his head, where he was the big shot executive, and I was just his wife, despite my having my own job. Sure, it wasn’t the career I’d dreamed of, but it did cover my portion of the bills. Barely.

“Did you hear me, Melodie?” Seth asked, breaking me out of that strange haze I’d fallen into. “I said I think we should get a divorce.”

I put my spoon down and stared at my husband.

How did we become so wrong for each other?

“And if I say no?” I asked as calmly as I could, though my heart was beating so loud I could hardly hear myself over the rush of blood to my ears.

Perhaps it was the schoolteacher in me, but despite the turmoil raging inside, I didn’t see the point of raising my voice. Everyone had ears, and his worked just fine. Besides, what reason would I have to shout? Deep down, I knew he’d already made up his mind.

“No to what, opening our marriage or getting a divorce?” he asked.

“Either… Both.”

He frowned, looking irritated. “Well, for one, if we divorce, you’d have nowhere to go.

I own the house we live in, and since affording a decent rental is next to impossible on a teacher’s salary, I’d say you’d be homeless.

” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if my world hadn’t just turned upside down.

“And two,” he continued, “You need the coverage that my health insurance offers since yours doesn’t fully cover the cost of your medication.

Plus, if I’m being honest, if you said no to a divorce, I’d just do what I want, anyway.

Of course, that would be considered cheating, and I respect you too much to do that to you.

However, if we were to open the marriage, I could sleep with whoever I want, and it wouldn’t be cheating.

It would just be… our arrangement. Our way of life, if you will. ”

“You said ‘I’,” I replied numbly, not an ounce of emotion in my tone.

Honestly, I didn’t know if there was anything left in me to care, not really. I couldn’t convince him to stay, to not do this to me—to us. So, why was I pushing this conversation?

“What?” he asked.

“You said ‘I’,” I stated again. “‘If we were to open the marriage, I can sleep with whomever I want’.” I echoed his words back to him. “If we were to open the marriage, wouldn’t it go both ways, Seth? Wouldn’t I get to sleep without whoever I wanted?”

He scoffed. “I mean, yeah, sure. But who would want to?”

“Excuse me?”

“Face it, Melodie. You’ve let yourself go. I love you, and I don’t want to touch you. What makes you think anyone else would?”

I stared open-mouthed at this man whom I’d been married to for four years. Four years of his constant criticisms and lies, and going back on his word, to the more recent, putting me down for my weight gain.

How could someone I once thought was the most wonderful man in the world become so ugly? And right in front of my eyes, no less.

“Look, Mellie,” he said, his tone placating.

“It doesn’t have to be forever, okay? We can close the marriage after you’ve gotten your weight under control.

I love you, and I want you to be happy. I want to make you happy.

But I can’t do that if I’m not sexually attracted to you.

Just grant me this one wish, and I promise I’ll be the perfect partner to you.

We can even start going to the gym together, maybe work on getting back that spark we once had.

I know it’s still there. We just have to fight for it.

Sleeping with other people will give us some perspective on what’s important.

And that’s you and me, babe. And though I highly doubt it, maybe if you find someone who’s attracted to you in that way, it’ll help you get your confidence back and motivate you to get back to being who you were meant to be, my perfect wife. ”

My heart was breaking. How could he not see that? I didn’t want to sleep with other people. I wanted him. I only ever wanted him. So, why wasn’t I enough for him?

I gritted my teeth, trying to keep the tears at bay. I would not cry in front of this man—this stranger. Seth hated weakness, and crying would be the ultimate sign of failure in his eyes. I was a lot of things, but I, Melodie Hart, was not weak.

I would make him fall in love with me again. I had to. I wasn’t ready to give up on us. I loved him too much. I didn’t know why I did when he clearly didn’t feel the same way. But when I pictured my life, it was never without him.

I let out the breath I was holding and stumbled over my words as I said, “I… okay.”

“Okay?” he asked excitedly. “You mean it? We can open our marriage?”

“Sure, Seth… whatever you want.”

He reached across the table and pulled me into a fierce hug. “You’re the best wife ever. Always so easygoing and reasonable. I knew you’d see things from my perspective. Just watch. This’ll be great for us.”

I nodded against his shoulder, and he squeezed me one last time before pulling away.

He opened his mouth to say something, but his phone rang.

It was sitting on the edge of the table, and I saw his assistant’s name, Lacey, pop up on the screen.

He smiled and snatched up the device, quickly rising from his chair. “I have to take this,” he announced, and before I could object, he was halfway across the room, heading for the restaurant’s front doors.

Our waiter approached, then, looking frantically from me to the front doors, then back to me. “Did you still want that special order of chocolate cheesecake? I can bring it out now, so it’ll be waiting for when your husband comes back?” he said, his tone unsure.

I smiled at him through gritted teeth, tears burning the back of my eyes. “No, Pierre, that’s fine. You can go ahead and make that a to-go order. I’ll collect it on my way out.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused by the sudden change of events.

“You said it was your and your husband’s favorite dessert, and you wanted to surprise him with it for your anniversary.

Our chef made it especially for this occasion, since it isn’t something we usually offer on the menu. ”

I grimaced. “I know, I’m sorry, and I’ll pay the extra charge. But I’m afraid a cake right now would be a slap in the face. Apparently, I need to lose weight.”

I was surprised at how bitter I sounded. Which was absolutely not like me. I was a kindergarten teacher, bitter was usually nowhere close to my general disposition. Yet, here I was, giving freshly brewed espresso a run for its money.

Pierre gasped, clutching his chest, his lips parting slightly. He was an older gentleman in his late fifties who gave off warm, grandfatherly vibes. Seeing my expression, he immediately sobered, his face growing serious.

He leaned forward and said quietly, “Not that it’s any of my business, but I caught the tail end of what your husband said to you.

And in my humble opinion, the lady can do so much better than him.

You are kind and considerate and incredibly beautiful.

I’m sure any man would be lucky to call you theirs.

You are perfect just the way you are. So don’t let someone who can’t see your value treat you anything less than the gift you are.

” He smiled then, and I was surprised to find myself smiling back.

A genuine one this time and not the plastered-on one I’d been toting around for weeks.

“Thanks, Pierre. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome.” He straightened. “Now, I’ll go fetch your bill. Dessert is on the house.”

And before I could protest, he was gone, weaving through the scattering of tables and dinner guests and disappearing into the back.

My eyes wandered to the front doors again, watching Seth laugh as he carried on with his phone conversation.

My heart sank into the pit of my stomach, and the urge to cry was even stronger now.

He’d never laughed like that with me. Not in the four years we’d been married.

Had I really been blind to his unhappiness this whole time? Did I project my feelings of contentment with our relationship onto him, making me believe he was as happy as I was?

“God, how could I have been so blind?” I whispered to myself as a single tear slid down my cheek.

I wiped it away just in time, as Seth looked up and flashed me a dazzling smile, waving like a kid on Christmas who’d just gotten all the gifts he wanted.

I picked up my wine glass and tipped it at him in a silent toast. He gave me a thumbs-up and went back to his conversation.

“Yeah… happy anniversary to you, too,” I whispered, then drained the remainder of my glass.