Separation Anxiety(82)

He sighed in exaggerated frustration. “Will you fucking move over?”

“No,” I said. Then I turned around and shut off the television just for good measure.

“Bitch,” he muttered under his breath. I chose to ignore that one.

“I’m moving my stuff out this weekend, Richard. I’ll see you in court on the seventh. Don’t forget that if you list this house, half of the commission is mine.”

“Not if it sells after the divorce is finalized.”

“Is that why you haven’t put it on the market yet?” I asked, taking a power stance by placing my hands on my hips.

He shrugged, and he finally sat up on the couch.

“You’re a real piece of work,” I said.

A slick smile formed on his lips, and I rolled my eyes.

“I can’t wait until June 7, when I will finally be finished with you.”

“Oh, sweetheart. You’ll never be finished with me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll always be your first husband. A little piece of you will always love me.”

“You know, I thought that for a long time. But after the shit you’ve put me through, now I just think you’ll always be the man who wasted five years of my life,” I shot back.

I spun on my heel and headed toward the bedroom I once shared with my husband. I’d already packed most of my personal belongings when I’d moved into Jesse’s, and I really didn’t want anything that would remind me of Richard. I didn’t want our bed. I didn’t want our couch. I didn’t want our kitchen set.

I wanted the little things; artwork I’d picked up over the years, vases and decorations, a beautiful lamp, a decorative mirror. Old boxes filled with mementos from high school and college.

I didn’t want our sheets or our towels or even our kitchen gadgets. Jesse had all of those things, anyway.

And that train of thought made me realize how dependent I’d become on Jesse. I’d always felt so independent with Richard; I was in a relationship, and I was married, but I was still on my own. I wasn’t part of a team.

With Jesse, I was part of something bigger. We were in it together.

It wasn’t dependence in the way that I became a fragile woman who relied on a man to support her; rather, it was dependence in the way that I needed Jesse and his love. I needed his warm arms around me. I needed his encouragement and his strength and his laughter. I needed him to look at me with lust in his eyes and promise me that I was the only woman he wanted. These were the things that I had come to rely on in my life, and I was thriving in new ways that I didn’t know I could thrive. I felt confident, loved, cherished, and treasured, and I realized how much I’d been missing out on because I’d never had any of that with Richard.

I packed up my car with as much as I could manage, starting with the keepsake box I had in the bedroom. I took my wedding dress, hoping I could find someplace to sell it. If not, burning it was always an option.

I headed to the garage and pulled the Christmas ornaments that had special meaning to me. I took the boxes I considered mine and packed them in my car.

Richard didn’t budge from his place on the couch. He never offered to help me. His eyes never left the television screen as I struggled through various rooms of the house with boxes.

The only time his eyes even flicked in my direction was when I pulled a painting off the wall next to the TV.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Taking what’s mine.”

“That’s not yours.”

“Yes, it is. I bought it at Pottery Barn two years ago.”

“With my credit card,” he shot back.

“That we paid for out of our shared account.”

“I want it.”

I didn’t want the argument, but I didn’t want to give it to him, either. “Fine,” I said. “All yours.” I tossed it in his direction, and it landed on the floor. The glass in the frame shattered, causing the art inside to tear, and the frame cracked nearly in half.

He gaped at me in stunned shock, and I smiled at him with sarcastic and fake sweetness.

“What the fuck, Veronica?” he yelled at me.

I just continued to smile sweetly.

“That was a big mistake,” he said with a threatening tone.

“Marrying you was a big mistake. I’ll be back for the rest of my things later this week.”

I turned and walked out. I had everything I really needed, so if he decided to destroy what was left, then so be it. I didn’t need the reminders of him anyway, not after he leaked a very intimate and private moment between Jesse and me to one of his sleazy sources and not after he tried to take my job and my livelihood away from me.