Status: Finished.
This Empty Love
Chapter o1
“In the case of no prenuptial agreement, all property and belongings must be split equally amongst the couple, if the divorce is finalized.” The lawyer started to say, explaining all the basics but I wasn’t paying attention.
My mind was off in a different place as my eyes glazed over with potential tears. This was not where I wanted to be right now, especially not four months away from what would have been our two year anniversary. Were we really damned enough not to be able to make it farther than a year and ten months?
The tension that filled room could be cut with a knife. The mixture of tension, awkward glances, mentions of the past, and shuffling papers was enough to drive anyone crazy, and enough to make me hate this decision more than ever.
Of course, this was pretty much all his idea, not mine. If I had any say in this, there would be no lawyers and there would be no divorce spoken between us. It was an absurd word.
“Divorces seem to be becoming more and more common lately,” My lawyer, John Mathers, began to talk. His voice seemed to shatter some of the tension. “I don’t want to see this become just another messy divorce. After talking with Mr. Sykes’s lawyer, we’ve tried to find different means of dealing with this.”
“There are a few ideas we came up with,” Daniel Leads, the other lawyer, continued. “The main one is having you two see a marriage therapist. Are there any objections to this?”
My lawyer turned to me, questioning with his eyes. I brought my hand slowly to my forehead to rub it, letting out a sigh of frustration as I did so. “No,” I replied finally.
“Good, this will be fairly easy then.” Leads continued, “We’ve set you up with Dr. Owens. He’s the best in his field and we believe this will really help the two of you. After a three month course, if your differences can’t be solved, we will finalize the divorce.”
“Alright, I can except that.” I replied, my voice slightly shaky. There was no doubt that I was nervous to the point that my hands were shaking along with my voice.
“Me to, I suppose.” He spoke finally, agreeing with me for the first time in months.
The lawyers began to speak once more, but again I was off in another world. There was no way I was going to let this happen, no way I could let this happen. This doctor better help save what’s left of my marriage, so help me God.
Nervously, I stood up and gave a polite nod toward my lawyer and extended my hand out to the other. We shook hands before I muttered a farewell and exited the room. I’ve been saying this everyday for the past month, but this has been one of the hardest days of my life.
It wasn't until I got in my car, drove wearily to my sister's house - since I wasn't really welcome home -, and entered the guest room until I let myself cry pathetically and over dramatically. With swollen and tired, blood shot eyes, I climbed into the cold bed and curled up into a tight ball.
Laying there, with my eyes shut tightly and my body fatigued, I came to the realization that I was still in love with Oliver Scott Sykes, and God, it never hurt so much.
My mind was off in a different place as my eyes glazed over with potential tears. This was not where I wanted to be right now, especially not four months away from what would have been our two year anniversary. Were we really damned enough not to be able to make it farther than a year and ten months?
The tension that filled room could be cut with a knife. The mixture of tension, awkward glances, mentions of the past, and shuffling papers was enough to drive anyone crazy, and enough to make me hate this decision more than ever.
Of course, this was pretty much all his idea, not mine. If I had any say in this, there would be no lawyers and there would be no divorce spoken between us. It was an absurd word.
“Divorces seem to be becoming more and more common lately,” My lawyer, John Mathers, began to talk. His voice seemed to shatter some of the tension. “I don’t want to see this become just another messy divorce. After talking with Mr. Sykes’s lawyer, we’ve tried to find different means of dealing with this.”
“There are a few ideas we came up with,” Daniel Leads, the other lawyer, continued. “The main one is having you two see a marriage therapist. Are there any objections to this?”
My lawyer turned to me, questioning with his eyes. I brought my hand slowly to my forehead to rub it, letting out a sigh of frustration as I did so. “No,” I replied finally.
“Good, this will be fairly easy then.” Leads continued, “We’ve set you up with Dr. Owens. He’s the best in his field and we believe this will really help the two of you. After a three month course, if your differences can’t be solved, we will finalize the divorce.”
“Alright, I can except that.” I replied, my voice slightly shaky. There was no doubt that I was nervous to the point that my hands were shaking along with my voice.
“Me to, I suppose.” He spoke finally, agreeing with me for the first time in months.
The lawyers began to speak once more, but again I was off in another world. There was no way I was going to let this happen, no way I could let this happen. This doctor better help save what’s left of my marriage, so help me God.
Nervously, I stood up and gave a polite nod toward my lawyer and extended my hand out to the other. We shook hands before I muttered a farewell and exited the room. I’ve been saying this everyday for the past month, but this has been one of the hardest days of my life.
It wasn't until I got in my car, drove wearily to my sister's house - since I wasn't really welcome home -, and entered the guest room until I let myself cry pathetically and over dramatically. With swollen and tired, blood shot eyes, I climbed into the cold bed and curled up into a tight ball.
Laying there, with my eyes shut tightly and my body fatigued, I came to the realization that I was still in love with Oliver Scott Sykes, and God, it never hurt so much.