The Accidental Marriage: Chapter 40

My heart stops. My tongue freezes. My brain quits.

Lareina looks up at me, her eyes still brilliant and tender, the smile heartbreakingly beautiful.

“What?” I say, laughing shakily. I couldn’t have heard that right.

“Let’s get divorced.”

I blink. The post-orgasmic flush lingers on her cheeks. My cum is still warm on her belly, and my dick’s still wet from being inside her. I look around, wondering if I’m in some bizarre nightmare, separate from the evening I walked into. The sauce remains in the pan, and the water waits to be reheated. A small bag of pasta sits next to Lareina’s ass on the counter, ready to be boiled.

“Why?” My voice sounds far away, muddled, as though I’m hearing it submerged in water. The euphoric heat has left, replaced by a sense of extreme foreboding.

Her face freezes, and she looks at me like she doesn’t know what to say. “I just think… Well, we both got what we wanted. I have my money—and safety—and you have your promotion.”

“But—”

“I think it’s better this way. I’m not what you have in mind for a suitable wife or ideal marriage.”

Fuck. She’s throwing my words from Vegas back at me. When I was being an arrogant dick.

“And this”—she gestures vaguely with her hand—“isn’t what I want for our future either. We would be much happier away from each other.”

“You don’t know that.” But even as I insist, I don’t know exactly what she means by “this” or how to change her mind. Part of me says I need to pin her down, but I’m also afraid. What if she says the past few months have been a trial, and it disappointed her?

“Yes, I do.” Her gaze is steady. “I know exactly what I want from my life, Ares.”

“And you think… You want…” My breath shakes. I run my hand over my mouth roughly, feeling utterly at a loss. The D-word rolled from her lips so casually, but I can’t even say it, not in relation to us. When we were in Vegas, we spoke of our marriage as something with a time limit, but as time went on, I painted her into my future: her in her smock, paint splatters all over, our beautiful children and us growing old together. She’ll have gray hair, and wrinkles will cover her skin, but she’ll still be the most beautiful woman in my eyes, and I’ll love every line.

“You’re just a little shocked right now,” she says, patting my cheek. “But it won’t be long before you realize I’m right.”

* * *

I tuck my dick back into my pants and leave. I can’t stay in the house with her talking about divorce so calmly—not when the very idea tears at me like a vulture’s talons.

I drive aimlessly until I reach the beach. Moving on autopilot, I climb out of my car and sit on the damp sand. The waves pound into the ground, and the horizon is invisible in the blackness. I stick my fingers into my hair and clench hard.

What the hell just happened? How did things go so wrong? Weren’t we happy? Is she still upset about what I said about marriage?

I’ve never been caught this off guard before. Not since Mom kidnapped me.

If Lareina asked me if I meant what I said, my answer would be yes. At the time, I meant every word. I couldn’t even bear it when my girlfriends wrapped their arms around me and clung. I always thought I wanted a dignified, respectful marriage, like what my father has with Akiko. No crazy drama.

But if Lareina asked me how I feel now, I’d say I can’t imagine life without her. Her strength, her bright personality, her decisiveness and daring—they all attract me in ways I’ve never felt before.

Why did she spend all that time and effort trying to make a nice dinner and celebrate my promotion just to ask for a divorce?

My thoughts spin in circles. God, I feel so stupid! How can I not figure this out? Lareina’s serious about divorcing me.

As I inhale more of the salty air, the gears in my head finally start to turn. My wife isn’t a fickle woman. She’s not cruel, or prone to cutting people out for no reason. Because there are so few people close to her, she cherishes every friend she has. She must know that if she divorces me, she could lose my family, too.

Other than the idiotic things I’ve said, what’s the problem? Something else that told her this was the right moment to bring up divorce—

The answer hits me in the face with sudden force. My promotion!

We both got what we wanted. I have my money—and safety—and you have your promotion.

I jump to my feet. She already had her money, but she waited until now because she wanted to make sure I got my junior partnership. And all this time I thought she stayed because…

I exhale harshly. Logic says I should take the promotion. I deserve it. I worked hard for it, practically slaved for it at times.

But…

I picture myself as a junior partner. I’ll be in a bigger office. Maybe with more hours from admin support. More money. More clients. More cases. But I’ll go home to an empty house, an empty bed and an empty life. No more getting up in the morning and making sure my wife has something she can eat. No more tasting her food and watching her smile like I’m responsible for the sunrise. The moment she told me how beautiful my eyes were, how they were nothing like my mother’s, plays in my head like a movie I can never forget.

My heart feels like it’s beating wrong. I clutch my chest in pain. I can’t picture my future without Lareina in it now. But I can picture myself living perfectly well without the junior partnership. Logic says I should argue my case and have both the partnership and Lareina, but her expression was too resolute when she asked for the divorce. She won’t change her mind. Not unless she learns I didn’t get what I was supposed to out of our marriage deal.

I pull out my phone and start texting.

–Me: I decline the promotion.

It takes less than a minute before I get a call. It’s Dad. The moment I answer, he booms, “What the hell was that?”

“I told you. I don’t want the promotion.”

“Did Harvey drug you again? Or is it your mother this time?”

“Neither. I’m perfectly compos mentis and don’t want it.”

“But why? You worked so hard for it. You threatened to go to another firm if you didn’t get it. You even got married!” The final statement is a loud shout. He’s probably about to have a stroke. Thankfully, high blood pressure doesn’t run in the family.

“Yes, and that’s why,” I say. “My wife thinks I got what I wanted out of our marriage, and now she intends to divorce me.”

“I told you to be nice to her.” I can hear Akiko practically moan the words next to Dad. Great. He put me on speaker.

“So let me get this straight. In order to keep your wife, you’re going to give up the promotion? Do you know how that makes us look? Jesus, the next time you want to get promoted—forget it! In fact, there won’t be a next time. You’re done at the firm!”

“I don’t care.”

“You won’t even be able to go to another firm. What are you going to tell them if they ask you why you didn’t become a junior partner even though it was offered to you?”

“The truth.”

“You idiot! It’s going to make you sound like some pussy-whipped loser who can’t tie his own shoes without his wife’s permission!”

“People can think what they want. Compared to losing my wife, it doesn’t seem that bad.”

Dad’s breathing grows loud and fast. “You will absolutely not decline this promotion! Not until you’ve given it at least seventy-two hours of sober consideration.”

“But—”

“Non-negotiable, end of story, Ares!”

When Dad is like this, it’s impossible to reason with him. Not only that, he’ll turn Aunt Jeremiah and Grandmother against me if I push. “Fine. Seventy-two hours. But I’ll still think keeping my wife is more important than any promotion.” Then I hang up and send a quick text to Lareina before she does anything rash.