Break Me
Ode to Divorce
The clock ticks.
My heart thumps.
You won’t meet my gaze from where you sit. Coward.
“I want the car,” my voice intones; stripped, emotionless. Your eyes remain fixed on the polished oak surface between us, and even though it hurts, you nod tightly. No fight, David? Of course not. No matter how much I get out of this, you’ll never be the victim.
My solicitor argues with yours about property, ownership, money. Neither of us says another word until:
“Give her anything she wants.”
And then you’re striding out of the office, shoulders stiff and swagger gone.
Did you really think you’d get away with it?
~
Even though we’re here together, I know I’m alone now.
Boxes line each side of the room; your possessions versus mine. You still won’t look at me, even as our hands accidentally brush reaching for that one framed picture on the mantelpiece. I feel your body go still beside me, and I know you’re reliving the same memory.
“David, stop it!” Alisa giggles as her boyfriend leans over the safety rail of the ferry. “You’ll fall!”
He makes that face at her; the one that sends a weakness to her knees and a curl to her lips. She always knows he wants to kiss her when he looks like that. “Just try it,” he calls over the wind, then extends a hand toward her. She shakes her head in refusal and presses her back to the wall, where she knows it’s safe.
But that’s always been the thing about David Henrie. She loves him because he can lure her out of her comfort zone, right into the thrill of uncertainty and new experience. The feeling of him guiding her into the unknown is in no way reassuring or familiar, but that only makes the surprising rush of adrenaline so much more addictive.
“Come on baby,” he coos, and who is she to resist the alluring twinkle in his dark eyes? She moves away from the wall and instantly feels the wind whip her hair around her face, and she squints against the air pressure. Then his cool palm is sliding against hers and she’s leaning past the safety rail, just like him. “It’s not so bad, right?”
Gulping at the prospect of just how deep that water is, she shakes her head; no, she supposes it’s not that bad. Not when David’s bracing his arm securely around her waist and his warm breath is heating up the skin of her neck. Alisa doesn’t want to forget this moment, and smiles at the realisation that she’s been thinking that a lot lately.
One of the ferry’s crewmen wanders past and she holds up her camera hopefully. “Could you take a picture of us?”
All it took was one click, and that moment had been burned into my memory forever. I can still taste the salt on my tongue and your face in my hair. I still remember the way I fell even more in love with you.
“Can I keep this?” You’re watching me expectantly as your fingertips stroke the edge of the frame. I nod. I’m not quite sure what to make of the fact that this is the part of me you can’t let go of. You’ve lost me and my trust and my care, so is simply the memory of it really enough to satisfy you?
~
“You, me, candlelit dinner. What do you say?”
You’re talking to her now, and I know this act so well I could slip inside and play you, probably better than you could. You’re confident, you smell delicious; now all it takes is… ah, there it is. The face that I like.
She’s done for.
I want to cry out, scream out. She needs to know how you’ll hurt her, break her like you’re breaking me right now.
But then your lips are connecting so passionately, and I can’t watch anymore.
~
“Alisa, I’m sorry. Please will you just look at me?”
I’m trying, David. But I can’t see you anymore. “What do you want?” I whisper, searching for anything recognisable in your desperate eyes. Everything about you is there, but the twinkle belongs to someone else now. You’ll never make that face for me again.
You shake your head, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I don’t know what I want.”
God, you make me tired. “Go home, David,” I sigh. Go home to her. But instead you step closer, reaching out to gently hold my waist. My heartbeat accelerates as I wait for you to move further, but all you can seem to do is stand there breathing slowly, steadily. Come on, what are you thinking?
“Goodbye Alisa.”
Your cool palms let me go for the last time, and my voice catches in my throat as you leave.
“Bye David.”
Please, don’t come back.
My heart thumps.
You won’t meet my gaze from where you sit. Coward.
“I want the car,” my voice intones; stripped, emotionless. Your eyes remain fixed on the polished oak surface between us, and even though it hurts, you nod tightly. No fight, David? Of course not. No matter how much I get out of this, you’ll never be the victim.
My solicitor argues with yours about property, ownership, money. Neither of us says another word until:
“Give her anything she wants.”
And then you’re striding out of the office, shoulders stiff and swagger gone.
Did you really think you’d get away with it?
~
Even though we’re here together, I know I’m alone now.
Boxes line each side of the room; your possessions versus mine. You still won’t look at me, even as our hands accidentally brush reaching for that one framed picture on the mantelpiece. I feel your body go still beside me, and I know you’re reliving the same memory.
“David, stop it!” Alisa giggles as her boyfriend leans over the safety rail of the ferry. “You’ll fall!”
He makes that face at her; the one that sends a weakness to her knees and a curl to her lips. She always knows he wants to kiss her when he looks like that. “Just try it,” he calls over the wind, then extends a hand toward her. She shakes her head in refusal and presses her back to the wall, where she knows it’s safe.
But that’s always been the thing about David Henrie. She loves him because he can lure her out of her comfort zone, right into the thrill of uncertainty and new experience. The feeling of him guiding her into the unknown is in no way reassuring or familiar, but that only makes the surprising rush of adrenaline so much more addictive.
“Come on baby,” he coos, and who is she to resist the alluring twinkle in his dark eyes? She moves away from the wall and instantly feels the wind whip her hair around her face, and she squints against the air pressure. Then his cool palm is sliding against hers and she’s leaning past the safety rail, just like him. “It’s not so bad, right?”
Gulping at the prospect of just how deep that water is, she shakes her head; no, she supposes it’s not that bad. Not when David’s bracing his arm securely around her waist and his warm breath is heating up the skin of her neck. Alisa doesn’t want to forget this moment, and smiles at the realisation that she’s been thinking that a lot lately.
One of the ferry’s crewmen wanders past and she holds up her camera hopefully. “Could you take a picture of us?”
All it took was one click, and that moment had been burned into my memory forever. I can still taste the salt on my tongue and your face in my hair. I still remember the way I fell even more in love with you.
“Can I keep this?” You’re watching me expectantly as your fingertips stroke the edge of the frame. I nod. I’m not quite sure what to make of the fact that this is the part of me you can’t let go of. You’ve lost me and my trust and my care, so is simply the memory of it really enough to satisfy you?
~
“You, me, candlelit dinner. What do you say?”
You’re talking to her now, and I know this act so well I could slip inside and play you, probably better than you could. You’re confident, you smell delicious; now all it takes is… ah, there it is. The face that I like.
She’s done for.
I want to cry out, scream out. She needs to know how you’ll hurt her, break her like you’re breaking me right now.
But then your lips are connecting so passionately, and I can’t watch anymore.
~
“Alisa, I’m sorry. Please will you just look at me?”
I’m trying, David. But I can’t see you anymore. “What do you want?” I whisper, searching for anything recognisable in your desperate eyes. Everything about you is there, but the twinkle belongs to someone else now. You’ll never make that face for me again.
You shake your head, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I don’t know what I want.”
God, you make me tired. “Go home, David,” I sigh. Go home to her. But instead you step closer, reaching out to gently hold my waist. My heartbeat accelerates as I wait for you to move further, but all you can seem to do is stand there breathing slowly, steadily. Come on, what are you thinking?
“Goodbye Alisa.”
Your cool palms let me go for the last time, and my voice catches in my throat as you leave.
“Bye David.”
Please, don’t come back.
♠ ♠ ♠
Short andbittersweet.Thank you for your time.