Part 1 (2/2)
”What does that mean? The same what?”
”Same man you married. I've changed. You haven't.”
”Right, sure. That explains it.”
”We've grown apart,” Cape said. ”Things haven't been good for either of us for some time. You know they haven't. We don't even have s.e.x much anymore.”
”Oh, so now you're going to use that as an excuse.”
”I'm not making excuses.”
”I can't help it if I've had so much night duty, long hours at the hospital.”
”Not blaming you, Anna. Just stating a fact. The marriage isn't working.”
”Maybe it isn't,” she admitted, ”but we could've worked things out. Twelve years... we made it through rougher patches...”
”In the beginning,” Cape said. ”We're different people now.”
”You keep saying that. You're the one who's changed, that's for sure. The past few months... moody, restless... all that so-called business travel to Chicago or wherever... and now you bring another woman into our bed. I hardly know you anymore.”
”No, not anymore.”
”What's the matter with you? Some kind of midlife crisis, is that it? You're thirty-five, that's not even midlife.”
”Three score and ten,” he said.
”What?”
”Never mind. Forget it.”
”Forget it,” Anna said bitterly. ”Am I supposed to forget what I just saw in the bedroom?”
”I don't expect you to, no.”
”I couldn't if I wanted to. In our bed, d.a.m.n you!” She swallowed Scotch, coughed, tried to drink again, and choked this time. She hurled the gla.s.s against the couch. ”You b.a.s.t.a.r.d,” she said. She was on the edge of tears now.
”I'm sorry, Anna. I know you don't believe it-”
”I wouldn't believe you anymore if you said the sky was blue.”
”-but it's the truth. I'm sorry for everything.”
”Liar. All you're sorry for is that you got caught.”
”All right.”
”All right, all right, all right.” She drew a long, shuddery breath. ”We're finished, Matthew. Once and for all, as of right now.”
”I know.”
”What you did today... it's the one thing I won't put up with.”
”I know,” he said again.
”You know, you know. You don't know s.h.i.+t, that's what you don't know.”
”You're better off without me,” he said.
”Well, that's for d.a.m.n sure.”
”I'll leave right now.”
”The quicker the better. Pack up and get out. Go chase after that redheaded b.i.t.c.h, finish what you started.”
”I'm through with her.”
”You think I care? Screw her brains out, for all I care.” Wetness dribbled along her cheek. Angrily she wiped it away. ”One thing you better understand right now. I want this house. I'll fight you for it if I have to. That's the first thing I'm going to tell the lawyer.”
”You won't have to. Everything's yours except half of what's in the savings and the Emerson stock.”
”Isn't that generous of you. I suppose if we had kids, you'd let me have them too. You know something, Matthew? I'm glad we're childless. I'm glad I had that miscarriage nine years ago.”
”You don't mean that.”
”Don't I?”
”No, you don't. Hurt me if you want-don't hurt yourself.”
She put her back to him, standing rigidly the way she had in the bedroom doorway. ”Go on, get out of here. I can't stand to look at you. I hope to G.o.d I never see you again after today.”
”You won't.”
”Is that a promise?”
Cape said softly, ”You'll never see me again.”
”I should be so lucky.”
He returned to the bedroom. His half of the closet was filled with suits, sports jackets, ties, casual clothes, a dozen pairs of shoes, a five-piece set of Gucci luggage; his dresser was jammed with s.h.i.+rts, underwear, socks, jewelry. Material possessions. Things. He dragged out one medium-size suitcase, filled it with essentials and one suit, two sports jackets. Took him less than fifteen minutes-just long enough to dismantle twelve years of his life.
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