CHAPTER TWO Mike
One Month Later
Jennifer and I went to the escrow office separately that morning to sign closing papers on the sale of our home in Seattle.
After accepting an offer, we had thirty days to either buy a house in San Francisco or rent here in Seattle while she commuted for a few months before I joined her full time.
She refused to buy a house in the Bay Area until she knew she’d like her new role at the tech company she worked for.
Her decision would have nothing to do with how I felt about San Francisco.
I’d been surprised at her suggestion for me to stay behind by myself and rent in Seattle because Jennifer hated renting.
She said it was wasting valuable money and that you never got ahead doing that.
I’d worked from home ever since COVID restrictions began and there’d be no issue with my job if I moved with her to California.
Like Jennifer I was also in tech, however, I spent my time writing code behind the scenes whereas my wife was front and center at her company.
I didn’t exactly want to move to San Francisco, but if I had to pick a location in California the Bay area sounded nice.
* * *
I was surprised to see her Tesla in the driveway of our nearly packed up Queen Anne neighborhood home when I turned the corner. I glanced at the digital clock on my dashboard and saw that it was only two. Jennifer never left work early. Never. Ever.
I tossed my keys on the hall table that was wrapped in protective bubble wrap, waiting for the movers to arrive, and made my way to the kitchen.
The house was quiet. As I walked to the fridge I caught sight of her in my peripheral vision and nearly jumped out of my skin even though I’d assumed she was home.
“Jesus, Jen,” I muttered, stopping in my tracks. “Why are you home so early?”
Her expression said that she was pissed off about something but I wasn’t alarmed.
Pissed was her usual look these days as she plotted every move we made.
Perhaps having no need to expend extra effort in selling a home in a hot Seattle housing market had made her angry.
Jennifer preferred drama and upheaval. That way she could be the hero and fix something after complaining nonstop. Why exactly had I married her?
“What is this?” she asked, holding up a sheet of notebook paper, showing little emotion so I couldn’t tell if I was in trouble or if she was just curious about a bill or something.
I knew I couldn’t be in hot water over a money issue because I wasn’t the half of the partnership that liked spending copious amounts of cash. She made a lot. She spent a lot.
I grabbed a beer and sat at the island and waited for her to bitch about my beverage choice or something I’d done.
I placed a hand under my shirt and rubbed over my abs, checking to see if my beer intake was starting to affect my body and wondering if maybe she’d finally gotten fed up with me.
Thankfully we had a home gym and I was as fit as the day I graduated from high school.
My wife was smoking hot so I considered staying in shape as part of my job requirement as her husband.
She waved the paper at me again and I spotted something familiar on the page from across the room. “What is that?” I asked, standing and moving toward the sofa where she sat.
“I just asked you the same thing.” Jennifer unfolded the paper then turned the writing toward me. “Recognize this?” she asked.
Yeah, I recognized it alright. How the hell had she found that was a better question.
The sudden urge to snatch it from her and run raced through my mind.
The piece of paper had creases that crisscrossed every inch of its surface from me reading and rereading the note more than a thousand times over the past decade.
“Where? How?” I stuttered, getting closer and confirming Cooper’s handwriting.
The note was the last message I’d received from him despite Mom telling me he visited her all the time during her microdosing voyages of discovery.
She’d wanted to share his messages with me but I’d found it all a bit macabre.
“I found this in the bottom drawer of your desk in that locked box you keep,” she stated, turning the words back to herself and scanning them carefully. “I’ll assume the initial C on this paper stands for Cooper?” she interrogated. “And that you two were lovers in high school?”
“You went through my desk?” I accused, ignoring her accusation. “That metal box was locked.”
“Yes, it was locked, but you keep the key in the top drawer, so how secure can that be?”
“What were you looking for?” I asked, grabbing the letter from her hand and sitting across from her on the matching love seat. I looked up in distress from the decade old note. “This is a violation of my personal space, Jen. You had no right,” I protested.
“I am your wife, Michael. That gives me every right.” She adjusted her pencil skirt, a skirt that hugged her curves to perfection and proved she was all woman and knew it.
“I was looking for your passport to check the expiration date. You know how you forget things like that.” A lame excuse if I’d ever heard one.
“You still had no right to go through my things,” I argued, embarrassed at what she’d discovered. “This was a decade ago and was just a joke,” I defended. “Why does it matter now?”
“You kissed him,” she stated. “And apparently held him closely,” she added with just a hint of repulsion in her voice.
“The note was one of his jokes. You know how Coop was.”
She scooted forward on the sofa and reached for a glass of red wine I hadn’t noticed sitting there.
How long has she been home? She must have gone home immediately after escrow while I was running errands.
She took a long drink, finishing the wine, then pointed toward the island at the open bottle.
I obediently stood and retrieved her bottle of wine while neither of us spoke a word.
After refilling her glass, I sat back down across from her.
“He was in love with you, Michael.”
I laughed and moved uncomfortably in my seat. “We were buddies, Jen. Best friends to be exact,” I responded. “Sure, he loved me. I loved him. We grew up together for God’s sake,” I added, trying hard to keep the fire from my face.
Jennifer narrowed her eyes and stared at me. “What would Cooper be in your life if he was alive today, Michael?”
“What the fuck, Jen? Whattaya mean what would he be?” I asked, my voice rising as she challenged my story about my relationship with my now-dead friend. “He’d probably be in Idaho and he’d still be my best friend.”
Jennifer took another drink of her wine and then ran her thumb and middle finger down the corners of her mouth, checking them to see if her lipstick rubbed off. “I don’t believe you, Michael,” she stated. “There’s definitely something else implied in that letter.”
I opened my palms toward her and looked at her in confusion. “You don’t believe me?” I asked. “Like what part don’t you believe?” I asked.
She ignored the question and continued glaring at me.
“Cooper is dead, Jennifer. He’s been dead for nearly ten years and he isn’t coming back so I don’t care whether you believe me or not because none of this shit matters.”
She leaned back and sank into the oversized pillows she’d insisted on buying for the couch. Like everything else, she’d wanted them and I didn’t have a say, so I didn’t argue about the ugly pillows. “Why did you marry me?” she asked, keeping her eyes on mine.
I knew what she was doing. She swore I had a dead giveaway when I lied to her.
I refused to look away this time. Looking away was the tell as far as I knew and she was going to lose this time.
There wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be admitting my feelings for Cooper today.
I’d held that secret for ten years. I could go another ten.
“Why did I marry you?” I repeated.
She held my gaze and nodded her head slowly, waiting for an answer, waiting to pounce.
“Well . . . well . . . lemme see, you know, because . . . uh . . . well, you know,” I stumbled, trying to act cool while choosing the correct words and holding her angry gaze.
“I’m asking you an easy question, Michael. Why did you finally ask me to marry after I waited six years for you to ask?”
“We’ve been together for twelve if you count high school,” I rushed to point out, buying time by remarking about a fact that didn’t matter in regards to her question.
“Twelve, six, whatever, but why did you finally marry me?” she pushed.
I was out of answers. I didn’t know why the fuck I’d asked her to marry me if the truth be told. “Because you told me to?” I asked, knowing immediately that I just failed the test.
She rolled her eyes at my answer. “I think it was because you finally realized he wasn’t coming back,” she revealed, catching me way off guard.
“Jesus,” I responded. “That’s ridiculous. What are you inferring here?”
“I’m inferring that if Cooper had lived, you and I would not be together, Michael. I’m not angry with you actually. To be truthful, the letter answered many questions I’ve had about us.”
“You’re my wife,” I stated. “You’ve lost your mind over a joke.”
“We haven’t made love in six months, Michael.”
Michael, Michael, Michael. I hated the way she spoke my name. My blood pressure was elevated and my face was on fire. Like a live lobster in a pot, I was cooked and she knew it.
“You’re mean sometimes and I don’t feel close to you,” I sputtered, grasping for straws. “I don’t think I live up to your high standards.”
“I don’t push you and you know it. I reserve my criticism for me and my goals, not yours, so how about we start telling the truth?”
“I don’t want to move to California,” I admitted. “I like it here in Seattle.”
“The house has sold. You signed off this morning, so you’re a tad late on that announcement, Einstein.”
I stood and pointed at her. “See? You’re mean. You belittle me and my mom and you act like I’m the enemy these days.” I stomped toward the fridge for a beer.
“Get an extra bottle this time and save yourself another trip,” she taunted.
Her tone of resentment had been evident for months, but today’s taunts tipped the scale of how to be bitchy to your husband.
I popped the cap off my beer and leaned against the kitchen island.
“You want some truth?” I asked, taking a long cool drink of my favorite hydration these days.
“I don’t like you anymore. I love you but I don’t think I like you. ”
I thought my remark would at least get a fuck you out of her. But no, she was silent as she returned my stare. After an uncomfortable moment of silence she asked again. “So tell me please, why exactly did you marry me?”
“Because I was alone,” I blurted. “Cooper was dead and he wasn’t coming back,” I confessed.
My jaw started trembling and my eyes began to fill as I fought the war I’d been fighting for a decade.
Somehow I knew that today’s battle would be the last one with my wife.
“I miss him, Jen.” The tears fell and I gripped the edge of the island.
“I’m not happy with us, and honestly, I don’t know why I married you.
Were you ever happy?” I asked. “Was this what you wanted to hear?”
“Actually, no, it’s not what I wanted to hear, but you needed to voice it, Michael,” she began, standing and heading straight for me.
I wondered for just an instant if she’d slap me or stab me with a kitchen knife, but of course, that wasn’t who she was.
Classy chicks like her don’t end up in prison because of love.
She was much too evolved to be that woman.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, tears cascading down my face, splattering on her expensive floors.
She wrapped her arms around me and let me weep, not once ridiculing my manhood or minimizing my feelings.
After two or so minutes she pulled back, still holding my arms and gently smiling through her own tears.
“And I’m truly sorry for your loss, Mike.
We all loved Cooper, but I understood you loved him more.
If I could give you anything, I would bring him back. ”
Her kind words caught me off guard. “So what now?” I asked.
“I’m going to California and you’re staying he.
. .” She paused before completing the word here and looked into my eyes.
“Well, I don’t actually know where you’re staying, but we’ll divorce, split the money, and move on with our lives,” she answered in typical Jennifer takes control fashion.
“I suggest you dig deep and figure out what Cooper meant to you. He isn’t coming back but that doesn’t mean you can’t find a person you truly love. ”
“So that’s it?” I asked. “Just like that?”
“You’re not in love with me, Mike, and both of us are far too attractive to miss out on real love, so yeah, we’re done.”