Heart Pulled to Pieces: Chapter 1

“I want a divorce,” Eddie said bluntly, over a cup of coffee as if saying we should paint the kitchen. It struck me as an odd turn of conversation, so I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. After all, we had been sitting outside on the patio of our favourite cafe. We had just been talking about changing our dining room set, an item we have had since we married four years ago. I blinked, staring into his serious face.

“What?” I asked, laughing while exhaling.

“I want a divorce,” he said more slowly, annunciating the words in a gentle way. He didn’t want to hurt me, which was clear in his eyes. Eddie wasn’t a mean guy, even to those he didn’t like. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot.” He turned his gaze down to his coffee. “And by a lot I mean for the last year. I just haven’t been able to get the spark back.”

Ahh, the spark. I knew what he meant by that; the spark was what ignited our friendship into a full-blown love affair. We had only been dating for about four months when the spark had led Eddie to get down on one knee with his mother’s engagement ring and beg me to marry him. It sounds quick, but he and I had been friends since we were five. Our parents had expected us to marry. It didn’t surprise anyone when we decided to marry in less than three months after becoming engaged.

The spark, as we so lovingly called it, caused our honeymoon passion to drag out for the first year of our marriage. I remember we barely left our Floridian hotel room for the week we were there. It was everything we could do on the plane home to not join the mile high club. When we’d get home from work it was just a simple routine to take off our coat and shoes, followed by our clothes on the way to the bedroom where we would spend an hour there before dinner.

“Eddie, that happens in a marriage. People become comfortable, settled. We’re just in that stage ourselves. There’s no need to get a divorce.” I lied, and I knew he knew it.

We hadn’t just settled into our marriage. We did that after year two. It was the first time he and I hadn’t finished love making, though I can’t recall why. I do know that it was on our anniversary. Not a great start to the second year.

We also found our routine had changed in that second year. We would come home, take off our socks and shoes, give one another a quick kiss before making dinner, and settle in for an evening together on our living room couch, cuddling and watching television.

“I really think there is.” Eddie wouldn’t look up. “We’ve been drifting apart for a while.”

By year three we had officially started drifting apart. It’s not that we forgot our anniversary; we just didn’t bother doing anything for it. It was on a Monday, and neither of us could take the day off to enjoy it. We never thought to celebrate on the Saturday before that, and by the end of the week, we both were so tired that a big celebration of our love was almost inconceivable. We did make love, but only once, and I seem to remember we both dressed quickly and went out to an un-enjoyable dinner. But I wouldn’t say that our marriage was lacking. Sure during the last year our routines all but disappeared, and we really didn’t spend all that much time with one another. Eddie spent most of his time in the office on his computer. I spent it on the couch reading, sometimes writing on my laptop. I had, though I’m fairly certain he never knew, checked to see what he was up to in there. No dating sites, no porn sites, nothing that would make a slighted wife feel like she at least had an excuse as to why her husband had spent so much time on his own. But Eddie, as always, was the perfect gentleman. I had noticed that one of his frequently visited sites was on pregnancy, and baby names.

I honestly thought that’s why he wanted to go out for coffee. To see how I would have felt about carrying his baby. After all, we had done everything else so quickly, I thought maybe he was distant because he wanted a baby and wasn’t sure I would agree.

But Divorce, that was something I wasn’t expecting. Divorce was not a baby; it was not asking for an increase of activity in our sex life, it was not saying he felt we had a problem. Divorce was a straightforward, cut’em loose, be all and end all of our marriage.

“You don’t want to try and work it out? Fix things?” I asked, I almost begged.

“I have been, Andi. I have been for a while. I tried to be more intimate, I tried to be more involved. I tried.” Eddie tried to reason but I wasn’t hearing it.

“No, no you didn’t try to do anything, don’t you think I would have noticed if you were trying to do anything different?” I felt myself starting to panic. What was going on? Why was it that my world suddenly began to spin out of control?

“I was trying on a personal level. I know it doesn’t seem fair, I really do, and I tried to use that to talk myself out of what I decided. But Andi, I just don’t love you anymore. I feel awful, I really should have told you sooner.” He shook his head.

I wanted to slap him. I wanted to yell at him, scream at him. I wanted to throw my hot coffee in his face. I wanted to cry. I couldn’t do anything. I sat frozen in front of my husband—future ex-husband. I caught my reflection in the table. My dark brown hair was tangled in my fingers, probably from trying to grasp onto reality. My hazel eyes were filled with shock and horror, which was understandable. I was more pale than normal.

I looked at Eddie, and he was looking at me sympathetically. His blue eyes were pleading, guilty, beautiful. His black curly hair was slicked back so that only the ends of it were twisting. His five o’clock shadow was starting to come through a little early. His skin was normal, slightly tanned. In his mouth, twisted in his lips, was a small bit of relief.

“I. Don’t. Under... stand.” I said simply. I started to laugh out of nervousness. I really didn’t know what to do. My marriage was over, and I didn’t even know it until a moment ago.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t planning on throwing you out or anything silly like that. I was going to sleep on the couch.”

“You have been sleeping on the couch.” I replied, my voice starting to shake. “You started about two months ago when you complained the mattress wasn’t comfortable anymore. I was saving for a new one, but I didn’t question your choice to sleep on the couch.”

Eddie just nodded. “I can put you up somewhere if you would like. I know how awful this sounds, but I was preparing for you to move out.”

“What?” My voice cracked. He was already planning my departure. “Who, what...” I stammered, but I didn’t know what I was trying to say.

“Andraia,” he used my full name, no loving abbreviations. “I’m sorry. I know this seems sudden to you, but I’m not sure it should. I thought this seemed like it was coming for a while. We haven’t been what we were. We haven’t been ourselves and we just... fizzled.” Eddie gestured with his hands, as if they were making such a casual comment.

“Edmund,” I said his full name, though it sounded awkward, “I can’t believe you’re springing this on me, I can’t believe.” I stopped and stood. I took my coffee with me, why not, and I walked away from the table.

I passed the others enjoying their drinks. If they were eavesdropping, they made sure it didn’t appear so. I stepped off the patio and walked down the road towards our apartment. The traffic was crazy, bumper-to-bumper going both directions. The noise was almost soothing, the city being alive as it was. Summer breezes blew the smells of exhaust, coffee, and fast food around me. There was nothing more I wanted in that instant than to go into the nearest burger joint and shove one down my throat.

I passed on it, moving down the street. I glanced into a shop window, seeing Eddie not far behind me. He was following me home, probably to make sure I didn’t burn his clothes or toss his video game systems out the second story window. The thought crossed my mind, and it was tempting, but it wouldn’t be worth it.

I walked in silence for the two blocks it took me to get home. I didn’t pause to look back and see if Eddie was still close. I opened my purse with one hand searched for my keys. I found them and unlocked the secure door, not checking to see if I was alone when I closed the door.

I walked up the flights of stairs, finishing my coffee as I made it to the apartment door. I unlocked the door and stepped in. I hung my purse on the doorknob, set my keys on the kitchen counter, and set my empty coffee cup on the island. I would miss this apartment. I loved how light it was, how you entered into the giant, open living area with the kitchen on the right, and our living room on the left.

I looked around the room, feeling a wave of sadness. I wouldn’t get to keep this place; it was Eddie’s first after all. I would lose it in the divorce, I knew. There would be no question. With the way Eddie seemed to have had the whole thing planned out, he probably knew who would get what right down to the last decorative candle. I walked across the open space into the small hall, making my way to the master suite, hearing Eddie come in as I stepped into the bedroom. I looked around, feeling the heavy sadness fill me again.

I walked over to the bed, and sat down. I listened to Eddie moving around in the office. It seemed that he was going into the closet; I could hear the door open and close. I listened for his footsteps as they made their way around the corner to our bedroom. He stood in the doorway with a suitcase. He really did seem to have everything planned out.

“I’m going to be staying at Steve’s for the rest of the week. I’m having my lawyer draw up the papers.”

“Papers?” I asked, looking up to him with tear stained eyes. Eddie nodded.

“For an uncontested divorce: quick, painless. I’ll have them brought over to you by Tuesday.” He paused. “I won’t let you go un-cared for. What I’m doing is...” He paused, looking for the words. “It’s blind-siding.” He turned around and left the doorway. I got up and followed him, my feet moving on their own.

He stopped at the door, looking around one last time. I think it was more a gesture for him to take in that this would be the last time in our home. He looked at me as he put his hand on the doorknob. His face was sad, but not guilty. It was relieved, just not gloating. I could feel the tears run down my cheeks. “I’m sorry Andi.” He said as he turned the door knob and opened the door. He didn’t look back as he stepped out into the hall. He closed the door gently, no ‘grand slam’ for a sense of closure.

I didn’t move, I didn’t think. I collapsed on the light hardwood, starring at the door until the sun went down. This morning I woke up, looked at my husband and thought I was one of the luckiest women in the world; I had a guy like Eddie. Now as I went to bed I pulled back the sheets on my side of the bed and wept, the weight of the fact that I would never share a bed with him again collapsing on me. I was just left by my best friend, and I didn’t even see it coming.

I called into work on Monday and told them I wouldn’t be coming in that week. I had vacation time built up; I could use that excuse to not face the world as I sat on the couch in the apartment. The local paper would survive one week without my restaurant reviews. Besides, with Eddie leaving me the day before I forgot about my reservation that night. I would have had nothing to write about.

I sat there all day, surviving off of crackers and coffee, watching the weather channel, afraid to change the channel to a show with the ability to increase my pain. The phone would ring, and I would let the machine pick up. I heard one from my mom, a chipper tone that would go flat second she heard that I, much like her, was left by my husband. At least I didn’t have a child to take care of. I suddenly had a new found admiration for my mother.

Another call was my friend Ann. She was babbling on about a new club opening that night and I absolutely had to go to with her. She was forever going to bars on week nights, leaving weekends for endless shopping trips. She was a law school student with rich parents and a limit-less credit card. No man would ever divorce her. She could always have a look over the papers Eddie was having drawn up. She would know if he was being a cruel bastard, or just plain cruel.

The rest of the phone calls no one left a message. I can’t lie and say that I wasn’t hoping it would be Eddie every time, calling to see if he could come home to his wife, that he was stupid for leaving me. No such luck would come my way. I was still alone by dinner time.

I put on a pair of sweats and walked out of the apartment, breathing in fresh air for the first time in over twenty-four hours. I passed people walking their dogs, going for jogs, or just crowds of people making their way to their dinner destination. I was fortunate not to have passed any couples; I might have ploughed them over for being so happy, (not that I was strong enough to do that, but I would have tried).

I rounded the corner and entered the first fast food place on my left. A burger joint. I stared at the menu like I cared about what I ate, looking at the backlit images of various burgers and chicken burgers with numbers beside them. I heard the teenage boy behind the counter ask me what I liked and I replied with whatever number my eyes last landed on, I had no idea what it was. I was in such a daze I forgot to tell the cracked-voice boy for a diet soda and salad instead of fries.

Within minutes my food was in a brown bag, a bit of grease from the fries seeping through the bag, causing a discoloration. I was handed that and my drink and was told to have a great day. I smiled and snorted a laugh; if they only knew.

I returned home, setting the bag of greasy food on the coffee table and stared at it. One thing Eddie always hated was my love of fried food. His wife, I remember him saying, well before we got together, should be a health buff like him. Salads and grilled chicken, tofu stir fry and steamed veggies, always eating breakfast and never snacking. Exercise everyday and never eat past eight-thirty at night.

I felt my face crumple as I stared at the bag. If that was the kind of girl he wanted, why did he marry me? After all, he tried to shape me into his kind of woman. He tried to make me fit into his ideals on what to eat and how to live. I didn’t fit quite right, there were certain foods and drinks I loved that I wouldn’t give up, plus the gym and I never had a solid relationship. Maybe that’s why he left, he realized that we didn’t fit. Why didn’t I realize that?

Before I knew it, I was shoving salty, crispy fries in my mouth and enjoying it more than the last orgasm I had. I went for my burger as I began to ponder how long ago that was (The sad thing is I couldn’t remember). I took a bite of my burger, and felt a little more comfort. I finished dinner and began to change the channel on the television. As if fast food would be the key to getting through the divorce, I felt normal as I began to digest my food, sipping the Coke in the gigantic cup. I absentmindedly grabbed a pillow from the couch and held it against me as I landed on a stand-up comedian. He wasn’t funny, but I laughed at him anyway.

I fell asleep on the couch, not bothering to retire to the bedroom and feel miserable. I refused to allow myself to feel defeated right now in this moment. I slept dreamlessly through the night.

I awoke the next morning around eight. I got up, showered, remembering that I didn’t have to work, but that Eddie was in the process of ending our marriage. I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t sad. I was functioning.

I dressed, made my way down the stairs, and left the apartment. It was overcast, and I didn’t mind if I got rained on a little. It was two blocks to the cafe, where I would buy a coffee and a giant muffin for my breakfast. I didn’t care about calories anymore.

I took my time walking back to the apartment, enjoying, in a cynical way, the misery that people felt from the weather, content that they were suffering on some level as I was, even if the reasons were very different. I shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much; karma has a way of getting everyone back.

Standing on the doorstep of the apartment was a man in a trench coat. How retro he looked with his fedora and brief case. He looked like a detective in an old movie, but was young, and slightly handsome.

“Are you Andraia Lansky?” he asked as I approached him.

“Yes?” I replied, slowing my step and feeling awkward.

He reached beneath his coat and gave me a brown envelope. “These are from the office of Melanie Williams, your husband’s lawyer. If you have any questions about the document, it’s requested that you do not contact Ms Williams directly, but she has included, by Mr. Lansky’s request, a few business cards of some of her colleagues.” I felt my face contort into a mask of pain as the young man served me my divorce papers. “I’m sorry.” He said simply, though his tone said he wasn’t. He turned sharply and left down the street, flagging a cab as he moved.

I remained outside for a moment, shocked and shaken. The first rain drop hit my coffee cup with a splat, and it brought me back to reality. I dug into my pocket for my keys, and then unlocked the door, going back inside the building.

By the time I got into the apartment I was hyperventilating. I set my coffee cup and the brown envelope beside each other on the kitchen counter before I bent over and fought the tears as I grabbed my stomach.

As I stood gasping for air, the phone rang, and Ann’s voice cracked over the answering machine. I had no idea what her chipper tone was going on about, but I quickly picked up and in a blur said, “you need to come over right now, I need your help, Eddie has just had divorce papers delivered and I can’t look at them on my own, and I don’t want a judgemental lawyer so I need you to come over now and help me please.” My voice cracked as the tears hit my eyes. There was a long pause before Ann replied.

“I’ll be right over,” she said and hung up. The twenty minutes it took for Ann to get to the apartment felt like long, agonizing hours. The brown envelope was like a magnet for my eyes, I couldn’t peel them away.

I heard the door open, though I was still bent over and holding my sides while staring at the envelope. I felt her hands on my side, as she guided me to the couch. I didn’t lock the door, I had recalled as I watched the curtain of light blonde hair move around Ann’s face as she made sure I was sitting up right. She then disappeared into the kitchen area and I grabbed a hold of the couch pillow and held it tight.

I could hear her rummaging through the cupboards, cursing under her breath, and then finally finding what she was searching for. The crinkle of the chip bag was clear, and soon Ann was sitting on the couch beside me, her perfectly composed and made-up self handing me the orange Doritos bag. I grabbed it from her and opened it, stuffing one of the cheesy chips in my mouth as she stroked my hair.

“Divorce?” She said the world simply, like it was a “so last year” kind of thing to do. I just nodded, stuffing yet another chip in my mouth, chewing more slowly. “Why, did he give a reason?”

“He says he doesn’t love me anymore.” I said with a full mouth. I didn’t care.

“Wow,” Ann said, blinking and looking away. In this moment of my despair and cynicism I realized how ditzy she had become in the last couple years. “That sounds like Eddie.” Her voice fluctuated.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, a little offended that she wasn’t trying to say he was crazy, or a bastard, or anything that should make me feel better.

“Remember Allison Cooper? He dated her about two girls before you? The airheaded blonde chick?” The way she was speaking, she could have been talking about herself right now. I raised an eyebrow, beginning to question a lot. “Anyway, he was, like, totally in love with her. The world revolved around her. They were looking at engagement rings on Friday; by Sunday he had taken all of his hair products out of her bachelor pad and by Wednesday it was like they never dated. Totally Eddie. He just comes and goes as he pleases. It’s like his emotions are on a timer, and once the bing goes off, he bails.” She shrugged her shoulders and pouted her lips. Wow, Ann had really become a piece of work. I continued to stare at her with a raised eyebrow, slowly chowing down on my comfort food. “So,” her voice went chipper, “Where are these divorce papers? I want to see what he’s asking for.” She said it like it was gossip, as if she just picked up “Us” Weekly to find out why Jennifer Anniston was dumped again. I could sympathize with her right now.

Ann went to the table, the magnetic force of my ending marriage pulling her immediately in the right direction. She ripped open the envelope and started pulling out and examining the papers. “Uncontested,” she murmured almost disgusted, disappointment in her eyes. “I thought he’d be more vicious.” She continued to sift, and read. Her eyebrows shot up. “Wow.”

“What?” I asked terrified.

“He’s offering to front you a place to stay, so long as it is under eight hundred a month rent, for at least six months, so long as you vacate the apartment by the end of this week.” Ann paused. “What an ass.”

“Huh?” I questioned her sanity. Did she not hear herself? I considered that a pretty generous offer.

“Where in the hell are you going to find a place in the city for eight hundred or less a month and in less than a week?” Oh, now I knew why she was acting so appalled.

I shrugged. Doritos, much like my quarter pounder the night before, were acting as a wonderful numbing agent. Sifting through the terms of my divorce stung, but not nearly as bad as it would have without the anaesthetic. “So? I can always move away.”

“No you can’t.” She said raising her hands as best she could with the papers in her hands. She said it like if I left, I would be a loser. “You just can’t leave the city.”

“Why not?” I asked, stuffing a chip in my mouth. “To be honest, it’s not like I’m getting anywhere in my job. And If I was to run into Eddie, how the frig am I supposed to get over a failed marriage if I’m surrounded by everything I had ever known in that marriage?”

“Like,” Ann said, looking back down at the papers. “You just get over it. You’re twenty-four, you’ve been married just over four years. Which is about as long as you two had been together.” She shuffled the sheets. “Think of it as, like, the most expensive break-up either of you have ever had.”

“Ha,” I snorted.” It is the most expensive break up I’ll ever have, for a multitude of reasons. But all that aside do you remember what I did when I broke up with Ajax? I switched colleges for crying out loud. I made sure we wouldn’t even be in the same state let alone city. How am I supposed to live in the same city as my ex-husband?”

“So what, you’re just gonna like leave the country?” She asked me like I was the one being irrational. And maybe I was. But I didn’t think so then. I still don’t.

“No, just leave the city. But enough about what I’m going to do, what do I have to do? What are some of the other things he’s asking for?”

“Well, it says he should keep the furniture.” Ann said as she went through the list.

“Understandably, it was all his.”

“His half of the music collection.”

“That seems obvious.”

Ann gasped. “He wants you to cut up your credit card.” She looked as if he had written in blood that I had to kill my first born child.

“I would have anyway.”

“But why?” Ann was almost disgust.

I shrugged. I realized now why going over these papers wasn’t affecting me as much as I thought. It was Ann. Not in a good sense, that she was there for support, but more so because her materialism and self-absorbed views of life. “Having my husband’s credit cards is not something I need, or want for that matter. If Eddie wants me to cut up my credit cards, I will.”

“If your ex-husband wants you to jump off a bridge, would you?” I didn’t fail to note how she emphasized the ex portion. I may have been putting on a brave front, but the reference to Eddie’s title didn’t hurt me any less.

“No,” I replied, stuffing a chip in my mouth and crunching hard. Ann rolled her eyes at me.

“Fine, it sounds fine for a divorcing couple. You two are completely civilized. You are doing this quick and efficiently.” Her voice sounded annoyed. “He wants you out of the picture asap, that’s obvious. He’s practically trying to push you out of the city.” Her eyebrows just about shot off her head, and it was clear that she was trying to suppress a smile. “Maybe there’s another woman,” and if that thought wasn’t enough, “and he got her pregnant. It would make sense. A hasty divorce required, you needing to leave the apartment by the end of the week, his supporting you for only six months and for such a small price. I mean, come on, Eddie can afford more than that. Plus this place is big enough for a family.”

Although I knew deep down that Ann was saying all this mostly to give herself some drama, I hadn’t really thought of the possibilities. I was a trusting person, a fault that I knew people always had and always will expose. So I naturally assumed that when Eddie bluntly told me he didn’t love me anymore, that that was all the truth there was. It never crossed my mind that I was being replaced. That maybe he still loved me but had felt an obligation to this mystery affair (or one night stand). That her having a child child made the noble Edmund feel the need to leave his wonderful, childless wife to support his off-spring.

I hated Ann in that moment; there is no other way to put it. I thought I could manage if Eddie was just being Eddie, got tired of this, me, and decided to cut all ties. But I couldn’t bear the thought, didn’t want to contemplate the possible outcome, of Eddie leaving life with me for a life with someone else.

I swallowed hard, and looked at Ann sternly. “As an attorney, do you see anything that seems unfair?”

Ann just blinked, looked over the papers again and said, “No. It seems more fair than most divorces I’ve processed, or at least seen processed. You just have to meet in the lawyer’s office on the date given, which is tomorrow, and let her know if this is ok and sign it. If you want changes, you’ll need to negotiate.”

“Great, get out.” I stated simply.

“What?” Ann asked, blinking furiously.

“Get out of this apartment, get out of my sight.” I diverted my eyes, feeling them start to well.

Ann sighed, presumably annoyed that I didn’t want to fuel her need for drama, and left with a lot of noise, stomping her heels and slamming the door on her way out.

When the door closed, the Doritos anaesthetic wore off, and the tears began to stream down.