The Separation

“David, I hate your drinking!  I hate it, and I hate you!”

“Sue, please don’t say that.”  

“It’s true. You make me so angry!  You’re ruining our lives. You’re ruining our family and I hate you for it.”

David’s head was pounding from last nights’ binge. “I’ll quit Sue, I promise.”

“You’ve said that a thousand times. It’s always the same with you. You’re a liar.  You can’t quit.”

Deep inside he knew she was right and he despised himself for it. 

Susan, still in her night gown, walked to the adjoining bath area of their new home, the huge house David had agreed to build in hope of appeasing his wife’s anger and disappointment with their marriage.

The bath was an opulent room with an Italian marble floor, gold fixtures, French windows with custom drapery and original art work. It was one of the highlights of the house. Sue stood at the basin and turned on the water as David appeared at the door.

“I’m really am sorry, Sue.”

She glared at him. “You’re sorry alright! You’re a sorry excuse for a husband and a father!”

Her shouts cut through his hangover like an electric shock.

“You were playing the stereo so loud last night the children couldn’t sleep. You were drunk. You don’t care about me and you don’t care about the kids. You’re a selfish, son of a bitch, David.”

His self-loathing grew with each of her outbursts. He retreated to the walk-in closet and grabbed a suit for work.

“Don’t run and hide, David. I’m telling you, if it doesn’t change I'm going to leave you.  I’ll divorce you! I mean it.”

That dreaded word, divorce, terrified him. His pulse rose. He felt weak and nauseated.  She'll never leave me, it's impossible. We've been together for nearly twenty years. Dave and Sue, the great couple with the beautiful kids, the beautiful family.

“I mean it. I’ve already talked with an attorney.”

He felt sick, sick inside and sick of what he had become--disgusted with his drinking and himself. However, with each of Sue’s accusations his denial grew. She has faults of her own. She acts like she’s perfect. 

He was angry. David stepped from the closet, buttoning a white shirt. A tie was draped around his neck. He raised his voice with an accusatory tone. “What are you talking about, Susan? An attorney? You’ve spoken with an attorney?”

“Yes, I have. Do you think I'm going to put up with this shit forever? Yeah, I saw an attorney weeks ago.”

The reality of it struck him hard. He took a step toward his wife and gently touched her arm. “Sue, I’ll get help. I’ll do it.”

“I’ve heard it all before, David. It’s all lies. All you do is work and drink. You ignore me and you ignore the kids. I can’t stand it anymore.” Sue pulled her arm away and turned to the basin. 

“Susie, come on. I'm very sorry."

“Don’t call me Susie.” She dipped her hands in the water, turned toward her husband and flicked water in his face. “You’re not sorry. You’re never sorry. If you were you’d quit drinking.”

A second splash of water hit him in the face. His anger was coming back. He moved closer and shouted, “Stop it!”

“Get away from me!” A third splash hit him in the face. “Go away. I want you to leave.”

“Stop it, Sue. We need to talk.”

“I’m through talking.”

A fourth splash flew from her fingertips, just inches from his face. Water hit him directly in the eyes, his anger peaked. He slapped her across the face.

“David! Now you’ve done it. You’re crazy! I want you out of my house!”

He couldn’t believe he'd hit her--instantly apologized, moved away, and sat on the side of the bath, their Jacuzzi. Sue stepped to the doorway, pointed down the hall and screamed, “Get out!” 

As she started down the hall, David ran toward her, pleading, “Please let me talk to you, Sue.” He grabbed her arm to keep her from leaving. She lost her balance and fell to the floor, shrieking.

“Leave me alone!” She got up and started crying, yelling even louder. “Get out of my house. I want you to leave and never come back!”

Her house, her dream house, had been her project. For years she had been planning a house, drawing hundreds of floor plans, reviewing interior design magazines, searching through shops for the right appointments. After construction began she often appeared at the work site to supervise her project.

David had not wanted a new house, content with where they had been living. The home his wife planned wasn’t his style. He saw it as ostentatious, unnecessary and too expensive. Despite that, he never objected. He knew how Susan obsessed over her dream house. Telling her his true feelings would have been a disaster.

She was determined to have her showcase home, convinced her new career in interior design required it—convinced it would make her happy. David prayed their new home would bring them happiness. Instead, it brought more misery. Despite his sizeable income, they became house poor, barely able to afford a summer vacation. The financial pressure put a huge strain on their relationship.

Their youngest daughter was awakened by her mother’s screams. Six-year-old, Madeline, ran into the bedroom, “Mommy, why are you crying?”

“It’s okay, honey. I’m alright. Why don’t you go downstairs, Maddie? I’ll come down and get you some breakfast.”

As Maddie was leaving the bedroom she saw her father standing silently, starring out the window. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, Mad. I’ll see you downstairs, honey.”

Madeline left and ran down the steps. David heard some noise in the dressing closet.  Susan was pulling his clothes off hangers and throwing them on the floor. The sight of it filled him with fear--fear and heatbreak. “I’ll take care of that, Sue. I’ll leave today.”

“Good!” She left to go downstairs. 

Their older children, Erin and Peter, were still asleep. When David walked out of the bedroom he peaked into each of their rooms for one last look before leaving.

Maddie saw her father walking through the kitchen toward the garage. He was carrying a suitcase and had clothing on hangers slung over one shoulder.

“Daddy, where are you going?”

“I’m going to work, honey.” He opened the hallway door to the garage. Madeline jumped up and ran to him, her eyes filled with tears.

“Why do you have those clothes?”

“It’s alright, Maddie. Don’t worry.”

David walked to his car with his little girl following right behind. He opened the car’s trunk and placed his suitcase inside, laying his loose clothing on top. Maddie tugged at the suitcase, trying to pull it out of the trunk.

“Please, Daddy. Don’t take your clothes. Let me take them back in the house!”

“Maddie, it’s okay. Everything’s fine.”

“No, you’re leaving. I don’t want you to leave. Please don’t go. I’ll carry your suitcase back in the house, okay.”

He knelt down and brushed the hair back from his little girl’s forehead. “Honey, your mom and I had an argument. I’m just going away for a few days. I‘ll be back before you know it.”

“Daddy, I don’t want you to leave. Let me take your clothes in the house.”

David smiled at his daughter. “Maddie, you sweetheart, everything will be fine. I have to go now, baby. You don’t want me to be late for work.”

He pulled his car out of the garage as his daughter watched, standing in the drive with tears rolling down her face. He opened the car window. 

She called out. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, baby. You know that. I promise to be back soon. Now go in the house and finish your breakfast.”

He waited in the drive until his daughter went back inside. As he drove away his eyes welled with tears. Did I lie to Maddie?  Will I be back soon, in a week or two?  A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise.