Chapter 3
Chapter Three
“I want a divorce.”
Ryan glanced up from the floor where the orange juice he’d knocked over was pooling next to his sock.
He’d been too slow to stop it, distracted by the bacon burning in the oven, the eggs burning on the stove, and the smoke alarm alerting him to all of it.
“Sorry, one second. Can you get the smoke alarm?”
A minute later, Ryan turned to face Jasper after tossing the charred pans in the sink.
He offered a small smile, noticing Jasper’s nervous fingers raking through their cat Calliope’s fur as she nuzzled into his neck.
She never did that with him anymore, but maybe now that he’d be home more, she’d grow to love him again.
“Sorry about that. What were you saying?”
“You can’t put grease down the sink,” Jasper said.
Ryan turned to look at the pan as it dripped down the drain, memories of the many, many times Jasper had reminded him of that flitting through his mind. “Shit. I forgot. Sorry, it was just a lot of chaos.”
Jasper nodded and continued stroking the cat, shifting her in his arms.
“Anyway, now that breakfast is ruined, do you want me to just order something? You want that sweet potato pancake thing you like?”
“I’m not super hungry, actually,” Jasper said.
“Oh,” Ryan said, leaning against the counter. “Well, I am. Do you mind if I order something? I’ll get you that pancake and put it in the fridge.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Oh, okay. Eggs? Sandwich?”
“No.”
Ryan scratched his head as he scrolled through the menu on his phone. “Well, what do you want? That’s kind of it for options, unless you want me to pick another restaurant.”
“No, that’s—no. I don’t want breakfast, Ry.”
“I’m confused. What do you want?”
Jasper sighed. “I want a divorce.”
Ryan tilted his head, sure he’d misheard. The word divorce had no meaning in that context, not coming from Jasper’s lips. Even as he worked through the sentence word by word, the meaning stayed just out of reach.
He laughed once, more confusion than humor. “What?”
Jasper cleared his throat and said very clearly, “I want a divorce.”
There was no emotion in Jasper’s face as he stared straight ahead, eyes locked on something behind Ryan. The door, or maybe the painting they’d hung recently. Hearing it again, this time paired with Jasper’s empty indifference, was like a stiff punch to the chest.
“I think it’s best if we end things. I’ve been waiting until your retirement to bring this up, but—”
Ryan stood up from the counter he’d been leaning on, grabbing the edge for balance. His hand landed directly on the remaining spilled juice, the cold liquid shocking his system enough that he finally felt some clarity.
But still, there was no way Jasper meant it.
Was there? It almost sounded like a joke.
They’d called each other husbands for years, told anyone who asked that they were married, but they’d never bothered to make it legal.
That tiny detail didn’t protect him now.
It didn’t stop the word divorce from landing like a missile to his heart.
“That’s not funny,” Ryan said.
“It’s not supposed to be.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ryan brought his hand to his mouth, the juice covering his chin and dripping down his wrist. “Ugh.”
Jasper wetted a towel in the sink and handed it to Ryan, who used it to wipe his face and now trembling hands.
“I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t want this anymore,” Jasper said, gesturing between them. “I haven’t, for a while, but I was willing to try a little longer. And I did.”
“I’m sorry, I—” Ryan walked to the table and sat down, worried if he didn’t, his knees would give out. “Back up, please.” It came out more tersely than he’d intended, but he was just so confused.
“I just don’t want to do this anymore,” Jasper said, finally looking up to meet Ryan’s eyes.
Ryan almost wished he hadn’t, because Jasper’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears. If he blinked, they’d escape and spill down his cheeks. If Jasper didn’t cry, there was still a chance he was kidding.
“You don’t want to do what anymore? If this is about breakfast, I can just make it again,” Ryan said. He knew it was stupid. It wasn’t about the breakfast, but he couldn’t accept anything else.
“It has nothing to do with breakfast.”
“Then what? I don’t understand. Can you just tell me what the hell is going on?”
Jasper shrugged. “If you really have no idea why I’d want this, I don’t know how to help you.”
Ryan put his head in his hands. He wanted to understand, if for no other reason than it might keep Jasper from walking out, but he just… didn’t.
“I think once you get used to the idea, you’ll agree this is for the best. I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t want to hurt anymore, either. You get that, right?” When Ryan said nothing, Jasper continued. “I’m going to Stevie’s. I already have some bags packed.”
Ryan was frozen, his body refusing to move even though he was terrified of what would happen if, or when, Jasper left. Ryan looked up and felt another gut punch—Jasper had packed bags, and they were already by the door. He could barely breathe as Jasper moved across the kitchen towards them.
“I… okay, wait. Jasper. Hold on,” he said. He shook his head once, hard, like maybe he could dislodge the words that were stuck. It didn’t work. “Fuck. Just… wait a second, please. I’m trying to—”
Jasper’s hand lifted and rested on the door handle. He turned around and looked at Ryan, sighing.
“You can’t just do this out of nowhere!” Ryan shouted, his voice finally catching up.
“It’s not out of nowhere.”
“It feels like it to me.” Ryan choked out a sad laugh. “I burned the bacon and spilled the orange juice. You want a divorce because I’m out of practice? I can’t think of any other reason you’d want to leave me. It’s not…” His voice broke and his chest tightened. “Are you serious?”
Jasper’s jaw worked, flexing, but he stayed quiet. His eyes trailed to the counter, locking on a blue velvet ribbon. He blinked. A tear fell. Ryan’s stomach dropped when he followed Jasper’s line of sight.
A silver medal, for the miniatures competition Jasper had entered. The one he’d asked Ryan to attend, since he’d missed so many over the years and was finally home. Jasper must have won second place, and Ryan had missed it because Micah asked him to go out for drinks to discuss some CWA drama.
Ryan’s hands flew to his head, fingers grasping at his hair. “Oh, fuck, possum–”
Jasper scoffed. “I’m not your possum.”
“I missed your competition.”
“Yeah, you missed my competition.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? You were acting fine last night!
” Ryan said. And he had been fine, as far as Ryan could tell.
Jasper had been happy to see him when he got home from drinks with Micah.
They’d had sex. Maybe it was a bit lackluster, but Jasper still got off.
Maybe Ryan should have done more? But he was tired and tipsy, and Jasper had been a little short with him.
Retirement was fucking with him emotionally, so he couldn’t get hard, but that wasn’t because of Jasper.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“This is news to me.”
“Yeah. So you’ve said,” Jasper said, stepping closer to the door.
His hand rested on the handle. “This isn’t about the competition, Ryan.
I don’t expect you to show up to my competitions anymore.
I just thought when you retired, things might change, and it’s been clear since the night of your party, they never will.
This has been on my mind for almost two years, and I—"
“Two years?”
Jasper shrugged.
“I thought we were in a rough patch. Relationships have rough patches, Jasper.”
“A relationship should have fewer rough patches than this. Rough patches shouldn’t outnumber smooth ones. Rough patches shouldn’t involve one person missing every important event because something better came along.”
“It wasn’t better, I just… I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it.”
“I know you didn’t.”
Ryan looked at the medal again, trying to remember what miniature Jasper had been working on. His heart sank when he remembered: a mini chicken coop with exact replicas of their eighteen chickens. “You got second place?”
Jasper huffed and crossed his arms but stayed silent.
Dread creeped up Ryan’s spine, desperation strangling his voice with the realization of just how badly he’d fucked up this time. “I can do better. We can go back to counseling—”
“Last time you couldn’t even make it to half of the appointments.”
“I will this time.”
Jasper stared at him, saying nothing.
Panic clawed at Ryan’s throat. “I’ll call Marina and have her book that trip—"
“I don’t want to go on a trip.”
Jasper’s right hand reached for the ring on his left and Ryan’s chest squeezed so hard it hurt and stole his breath.
“Please don’t do that,” Ryan said. He swiped at his eyes.
Jasper’s fingers closed around the ring again. “I’m sorry. Okay? But it’s done. I waited until you retired, because—”
“What do you mean, it’s done? What does that even mean?”
Jasper dropped his hand to his side and sighed. “It means that at some point, our life ended. Our paths split up. Your life kept going and there was no room for me. My life stayed stagnant until I finally gave up on you and started doing things for myself, and those things didn’t interest you.”
“There was always room for you—”
“One day I woke up and realized I didn’t even know what to tell people when they asked how you’d been or what you’d been up to. I spent years explaining away your absence. You were in Milan when I celebrated becoming principal. Tokyo when I turned forty—”
“You could have joined me there! I told you that.”
“Oh, and don’t forget you were in S?o Paolo when the theme park caught fire, and I had to deal with that nightmare, which stole all the free time I was normally blessed to spend flying to wherever you were.”
“What, that’s my fault now? I didn’t light the park on fire, and I never forced you to fly out to visit me.”