Mary, you and your husband share equal blame for the divorce, the counsellor said, meeting my eyes.
Im to blame? No! Hes the one who tore the family apart! I snapped.
You see, Mary, when a couple splits the fault is split evenly, fiftyfifty. Not ninetyten or sixtyforty, exactly half each. Dont argue. You couldnt build a proper relationship, the counsellor replied calmly and confidently.
What should I do? I have two daughters. My ex loves them. I loathe him. What now? I wanted to believe him. It seemed he held a magic wand that could set everything straight.
First, calm down, Mary. You cant rush headlong or youll break. Who will look after the children? They need a sensible mother, not a hysteric. Say, are you planning new relationships?
Never! Not again! I cant be disappointed a second time.
Take your time. Youre still young, life ahead of you. Why did you marry?
For happiness, I answered, tears welling.
Right. Everyone wants great happiness, yet many end up divorcing. School teaches us maths, not marital wisdom. The result: couples rush into marriage, then run off crying into divorce, the counsellor sighed heavily. And the prime years slip by. Youth fades fast.
I tried for the family! I put up with my husband for fifteen years while he was oblivious, passive in everything Im fed up. I cant stand to see him. Our love lies in ruins! I let it all out.
Id like to propose an experiment. Are you willing, Mary? the counsellor smiled mischievously.
What kind? I asked, interested.
Im sure youll want to move on eventually. Take a pause, find a practice boy, so to speak, and work on him. Sharpen your domestic skills. Learn to live with a man, make it comfortable, the counsellor looked at me questioningly.
Where would I find such a fool? I wondered.
You dont need to look. That practice boy can be your exhusband.
How?
You dont mind him anyway. If he walks away, youre fine. So experiment. Its a winwin, Mary, the counsellor was persuasive.
I decided to try. After all, nothing to lose. I wasnt sorry for Peter. Let him go
Peter had become such a nuisance that I packed Lucy and Emma and left his flat for a rented one. The court followed, divorce. Peter begged me to reconsider, to wait. I burned the bridges.
I had no men on the horizon; after fifteen years of marriage I craved solitude.
Peter started frantic, showering me with cheap gifts, flowers, even invited me to a spa A belated attention from him. I was exhausted
Peter still couldnt accept it was over.
When I moved into the flat with the girls, I felt an enormous relief. I breathed out, finally in my own little heaven, floating on clouds.
But the girls pulled me back to reality:
Mum, why is our dad at fault?
I was stunned. How do I explain to them that life with their father is over, that his words are empty wind, that life feels cramped and grey?
Thats when I went back to the counsellor, hoping for guidance.
So the experiment began.
I called Peter a month after the split:
Hey! How are you? Fancy meeting up? I have a few things to ask.
Mary? You? Sure, lets meet. Anytime! Peter choked on his joy.
We spent the evening on a park bench. Peter kept leaning closer, trying to take my hand.
We talked about nothing. No questions from me. Peter walked me home, gave me a warm kiss on the cheek, handed the girls a small gift.
Back in the flat I looked out the window. Peter was still there. I waved at him; he sent a cheeky airkiss.
Well, those little meetups with my ex were fine. No fights, no broken dishes. Life started to look brighter.
We began seeing each other once a month coffee, cinema, the park My days wove together with joy. I felt ready to stitch our paths.
A year passed.
Peter, are we meeting today? I asked eagerly.
Sorry, Mary, cant. Very busy. Ill call when Im free, Peter hung up.
That happened three or four times.
I grew anxious. What was wrong? Had he found someone else? Jealousy gnawed at me. I needed answers.
I called him:
Peter, the girls miss you. Lets take them to the zoo.
Mary, Ive got a wife in the maternity ward, Peter blurted.
What wife? Youre joking! I shouted.
No joke, Mary. Were expecting a baby with Lily.
I was speechless. All I could manage was:
Goodbye. I wish you cloudless happiness.
