His face frozen, his eyes widened and he was stunned into silence. But all of that quickly shifted as he let out a shaky laugh and shook his head.
"You're joking," he said with a high-pitched voice hiding behind an obvious fake smile.Despite what he said, he still waited for my response to confirm as he added with a pleading tone, "right?"
"I'm not," I replied truthfully. At the top of my head, I could already see future me being served yet another divorce paper and how he would avoid me at all costs. After all, how many people would be accepting of the woman recycled in the family? He would not be as heartless as to kick me out immediately. I know that with full confidence considering the reason why he married me. But still, I must find a place to go before the time comes. Question is, where would I go?
The negative thinking alone made my heart beat rapidly and my breath hitched. He might be a stranger but he was there for me nonetheless. If he were to divorce me, I would have literally no one any more. Not mum, not death. I would have no legs to stand on, no shoulder to lean and nobody to keep me sane and that scared me! It made me realise how much I have taken his presence for granted during the short time I know him.
"You mean Alistair Sutcliffe, my nephew? The man we talked to at the clinic? My nephew, Alistair, is your ex-husband?" Understandably he was as shocked as I but his questions were like raining bullets dipped with poisons in my direction and he was completely oblivious of it.
I nodded my head to all versions of the same question. No matter how deep in denial he was, and like he who could have chosen to run away every time my memory fails me, I did not sway from my answer even if it would be a loss for me.
"But I thought… Isn't he still married to his wife and they have a kid together?
"Yes, they are still married to each other."
"But how —"
"He divorced me and married the work wife," I interjected, wanting to cut the conversation short. I thought I was fine talking about this. I thought I was over it already because it was fine when I had an internal monologue. Now that I was talking out loud about the matter, I realised how painful this conversation had gone.
My heart throbbed madly, pained by the wound of my divorce that apparently had not healed fully. As much as I understand that Alistair is now a married man and a father, the heart could not control who it chose to love. If I could, I would rather crumpled this pricking heart into a ball and throw it down the 'forever forgotten' bin.
"Work wife?"
"You know, the wife who —" I began to explain.
"I mean, Alistair did not put a stop to this nonsense and let it fly by?" He asked, visibly taken aback.
"My understanding of it is that everyone was doing it so he did not want to —" I stopped talking. Even I could hear myself sounding quite absurd with the excuses riddled in reasoning. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, unable to believe I let myself pull into this tomfoolery.
If he did not like it, he would straight up refuse to be a part of this shenanigans like the many times he used to. Yet, Alistair entertained it. Could it really be him being kind but clueless? Or did I divorce the man that I no longer recognise?
Edmund offered a box of tissues as he patted my back in consolation. "It must have been hard for you," he said.
I was not sure why but his words had that effect on me. It was as though he had my strings pulled, reeling the emotions I never realised was there. Even though his words were quite plain and simple, the tears from my eyes had gotten fatter by the minute. He was right. It has been hard!
"Do you still love him?" He asked. Not out of jealousy nor out of anger towards Alistair.
"I don't know, I really don't know."
Next thing I know, I was already buried in his chest crying my heart out. It may have been two years passed but for me, these raw feelings still felt like it was only yesterday. The grief that I had to go through when his marriage was announced three months after our divorce and the pain I endured knowing his wife-to-be was the work wife! It was tiring! I never had the chance to heal properly because soon after, I heard she was pregnant. Again and again, life tortured me. Months may have passed but it surely felt like only hours swirling by.
What a number it did to me! I thought I had gone through the worst but no, come September, I was spiraling even further at the news on the birth of his child. Life was treating me horribly and all of that was because I was infertile and yet, he was living the best of his life! Everything turned out much much better for him after the divorce. Perhaps I am cursed and him divorcing me was akin to breaking free. Now that I think about it, maybe I am cursed! I barely knew Edmund and I was already dragging his life down.
"We must divorce," I mumbled, still buried in his chest.
"What is it?" His caring voice made me tremble. It made me want to be selfish and be under his care.
Could I? Should I? No! I would wound up in an even worse predicament if I get too attached.
"I said, we must divorce," I said with a much more firm voice.
"Can you tell me why?" He asked ever so softly.
God, I hate this! Why must he be so kind? Why could he not lash out and be angry at me? Why could he not make this easier for me?
"Because… Well, because…" I stammered. A huge part of me wanted to continue with this 'role playing' and see where would life take me but another small part of me, a tiny tiny fraction of it that seemed to be winning, reprimanded me for being selfish.
"Because?"
"Because you're picking up your nephew's trash."
He was silent for a bit before saying, "I don't follow what you're saying."
"You're picking up your nephew's trash."
"My nephew's trash? When?" He sounded confused that I had to pull myself away from his embrace.
"Me. I'm the trash," I clarified, staring straight into his puzzled brown eyes.
"You? What are you talking about?"
"Me. I'm the trash," I repeated. "Recycled in your family."