by Amy Yao
It might not be right, definitely not fair, but this is the way the world works. People are social animals, and developed to exist in this particular way.
Those invisible lines shift and move, but last night, Erika decided that she wanted to hurt him.
Obviously, David couldn’t just look into her psyche. He couldn’t magically guess her thoughts, but intention had been clear. Men have to observe certain rules when it comes to women. He knew that. He would never call her fat, nor would he call her a slut, especially because that was a particularly bad psychological button for her.
Some of David’s friends like to believe that they can handle anything. It didn’t really matter what people said to them; they said they had really thick skin. They said they could take it. David wasn’t so sure. He really believed that everyone is sensitive to something, whether or not they know it at the time, whether or not they can admit it. You can never really prove his point, especially when it came to those people who maintained a stoic façade.
Erika had gone for his buttons.
Exhaling slowly, he had to wonder exactly what he was going to do. After that fight last night, back on the bed, David had awoken in the morning. As normal, he got dressed. He brushed his teeth. He grabbed his keys in his wallet and he got into his car, like nothing was different.
Were they going to get a divorce?
It was a simple question, but David hated thinking about it. He leaned back in his chair, losing his equilibrium. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked up at the ceiling. He studied the thousands of panels over his head, the seemingly endless dots. Industrial light bulbs glared down at him.
Did she want a divorce? What was she thinking right then?
David didn’t know, but he grabbed onto the sides of his chair, almost like he felt his world was going to spin out.
This is the thing: he loved his wife, and he didn’t want to lose her, but he didn’t see any way forward. What were they supposed to do? How are they supposed to deal with this?
Their relationship, like all relationships, had invisible rules, things you weren’t supposed to do or say. She had said them.
Gritting his teeth, he decided that he had to focus on work. He went back to the numbers, concentrating on these abstract details that supposedly related back to the real world.
For a little while, he lost himself; he stopped thinking about Erika. He didn’t wonder about their relationship or what would happen next.
It felt good, but it couldn’t last. Eventually, he was going to have to mess around with this problem. And sure enough, his phone started to ring. He saw her name, he was tempted to ignore the call.
Exhaling through his teeth, he decided to be mature. He wasn’t going to answer her vitriol with the silent treatment.
“Hello,” he said, his voice clipped and professional. If anyone else heard this, they would probably assume that he was talking to a client. “It’s me,” Erika said unnecessarily. Her voice was filled with pain, like she couldn’t quite find the strength to speak up.
“How can I help you?” Even as he uttered those words, David was tempted to flinch. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that much.
“We need to talk,” she said to him.
“I know,” he said after a couple of seconds of hesitation. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”
There was another pause, hesitation and doubt. There were so many things he could have tried to say. Usually when they fought, Erika would be the hotheaded one. She would be the one to say things that might be regretted, not David. Always calculating and focused, he never lost his temper. He never lost control of what he said or how it might be interpreted.
For the most part, it worked. She burned hot. He burned cold. Fine. Whatever. Only now, she had struck so deeply, going for every insult she could have thought of.
She called him a loser. She said he was a coward. Coming from anyone else, those words would not have meant much. This was Erika, his wife. He loved her. More importantly, he needed her to believe in him.
Those thoughts echoed in his head as he sat there, holding his phone to his ear. “Look, David, I’m sorry. Sorry about last night. But I’m not trying to apologize right now. You do that face-to-face.”
“Yes,” he agreed.
At that point, he pulled the phone away, and he ended their conversation. Normally, David didn’t leave work early. Unlike some of the other analysts, he took his assigned hours seriously. But today, he would make an exception.
Almost as though he were moving through a trance, David grabbed his coat and pulled it on. He stepped out of his cubicle after turning off his computer. He started toward the elevator bank.
“Hey, where are you going?” Someone asked. His shoulders tensed immediately. It was Diana. She was another analyst, technically his senior by about a year.
“I have some personal concerns I have to address.”
“Don’t forget to get your research note in by the end of the week,” she said, smiling at him. Of course, her grin didn’t reach her eyes. She was taunting him; that much was obvious, only he wasn’t interested in having this talk with her, not right then, not right there.
He had another woman he had to deal with.
As he walked through the parking structure, David needed to focus on something else, not Erika. If he concentrated on her, he would not be able to move. Worse, his thoughts would drag through the same wounds.
“You work so hard, but what do you have to show for it? A crappy little cubicle?” That’s what she had asked him last night. “You act like a loser. You are a loser!”
Strangely enough, David couldn’t remember the exact words that prompted her insults. What had he said? Even when he tried to remember the exact start of the argument, he couldn’t find the precise point where the conversation turned brutal.
All that mattered was the fact that she felt the need to declare war. She pulled out her claws and threw herself at him, doing everything she could to hurt him.
Oddly enough, that was probably the worst part. At one point or another, people had insulted his intelligence, his ambitions, his desires. But those were strangers. They didn’t really impact him. It was the fact that these words came from the girl who was supposed to love and support him, that was what struck deepest.
David got into his car, and he distracted himself by another woman.
Diana. Diana Mendez. Technically, they were colleagues, but it always felt like they were competing for clients, for attention, for prestige. David already knew that he was better analyst. He could parse through the data more accurately, coming to the correct conclusions.
So why did he have to compete with Diana? Simple. She was cute.
The senior partners admired her. They loved her tight blouses, the curves of her breasts, and the way she smiled. Oh, and he couldn’t forget how she flipped her hair. It was black and wavy, quite lovely, in fact.
With her short skirts and her tights, she would scurry around the office, always pretending to be polite and kind. She brought in cupcakes when it was someone’s birthday. Of course, she was also equally content to insult people behind their backs.
The senior partners put up with her. Because they did, David really couldn’t do anything except excel.
Shaking his head, he gripped his steering wheel, focusing on his rival.
What was it about women?
David wasn’t enough of a sexist that he would think of all females as incompetent, bratty, selfish, or irresponsible. It just seemed like many of the females who encircled him carried those traits.
The anger made it easy to generalize; it made it easy for him to think of what he would do to his wife or even to Diana herself.
Because no one could see into his head, he is in a scenario where he could bend her over his desk, lift up her skirt, and spank her. He loved the idea of hearing her apologize. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch this whole time. I’m sorry I don’t real
ly know what I’m doing! I never should have discounted you, David! You’re obviously smarter than me!”
David indulged in his fantasy. Soon enough, he pulled back up in front of his house. He parked his car. He had to get this over with.
What is the best way to break up with someone? As an analyst, David routinely sorted through large pieces of information, but he occasionally allowed his mind to drift. As he trudged up toward the front door of his own home, he wondered if this would be the moment when he had to figure that out.
Back in college, he had chatted with some friends about this. Some of the girls in his clique always insisted that the best way to break up with someone was face-to-face. You had to do it in person for some reason. Maybe this had to do with respect or honor or some other BS concept. David didn’t really know, but that thought always occurred to him.
In fact, David would have preferred getting dumped via a text message, maybe an email. Why?
Because when you sit down with someone and you are about to break up, it’s obvious. It’s not a debate, it’s not an argument, and the knowledge you can’t change that person’s mind.
The relationship is over. You might as well accept that.
Going through some ritual where you sit down and hug and talk about how you’ve gone this great together just seemed like garbage to him.
He walked through the front door, and he saw his wife there, seated on the couch. She had her phone in front of her. When the door opened, she stowed it back in her pocket, she got up.
“We have to talk,” she said.
“Yes, we do,” he agreed.
As he took the last couple of steps over to the couch, he realized something. This is going to be it. They were about to break up. Three years of marriage would come to an end. Distantly, he tried to work through the other variables, like who would get the house, how they would divide their bank accounts, stuff like that.
David took the seat next to her. “Erika—”
“No,” she interrupted. “Please, let me talk first.” Then, much to his surprise, she actually waited.
“Go on,” he replied.
“I’m sorry. David, I’m so sorry. I know I was out of line last night. I messed up. I messed up so bad, and I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”
David watched her, understanding perfectly well that he could theoretically let it all go. Perhaps if David had been a better person, he would have given greater consideration to the prospect of simply pretending it didn't happen.
No. Certain rules were inviolate. "I know you think you're sorry, but I'm not convinced that anything is going to change. We fought once, last night, like never before. Why would I think that it just won't happen again?"
At first, he didn't look back at her. Instead, he stared straight ahead. When he turned to her, he could understand why he had fallen in love with her. They had been together for just five years, and she still had those perfect features. Even now, he felt a little flutter of excitement run through his body as he gazed back at the woman he loved.
She had feline features, swept back cheeks with a small nose that seemed dainty and pointy at the same time. Her big eyes were wet, shining with emotion right then. Those blue irises seemed locked onto him, almost like targeting reticules. And of course, there was the rest of her body.
Erika had on a white T-shirt and tight jeans. They looked good on her. Even though he was upset, he could still imagine running his hands along her legs, up between her thighs, along her waist. He could picture himself grabbing her breasts, pinching her nipples, making her moan with excitement.
Those images still played out behind his eyes, only he didn't smile, nor did he mention them. Instead, he looked at her. His tone serious and flat, he said, "I know that you feel bad right now, but I think you broke something last night."
What did she break? Maybe a promise, maybe an unspoken covenant. He didn't know for certain.
Erika bit down on her lower lip. "What if we went to counseling?"
He raised an eyebrow, surprised. When they had first gotten together, she'd insisted she would never do something like that. As far as Erika was concerned, couples could work together or not. There was no negotiation, no discussion or diplomacy.
That made him rethink things.
"Are you sure?"
"I know I messed up," she said again, closing her eyes. Simultaneously, she pushed her fingertips into the palms of her hands as she tried to get through the words. "I messed up really, really badly. I know what I said. I know what I did. So yeah, I'm willing to do anything to fix this."
David was tired of being diplomatic. Throughout the relationship, he had been the rational one, the one who would always remain calm and levelheaded. He never said anything hurtful to his wife. This didn't mean that he never kissed her off, yet his tone never sharpened, and his comments had always been diplomatic.
Inhaling, he rolled his shoulders back. "I'm not sure this can be fixed."
There. He said it.
"Please. Just look online. We can go wherever you want. We can do whatever you want. Please?"
"I'll look around," he promised.
Technically, they had made up.
Erika had leaned in, and she kissed his cheek, not that he'd reacted. As he walked back to his car, David kept thinking about their conversation. Counseling. This was going to be a big step.
He wondered if it was a waste of time.
When a relationship comes to an end, can you just tell? Do you just get the feeling that there is this dead connection between two people?
He didn't know.
But he got back into his car, he drove back to work, and he soon found himself in front of his screen. He knew that the IT department could track his search history, but he didn't really care, especially at that moment.
He started typing, searching around for different possibilities.
Most of his work was done. He was the kind of guy who could take on one project after another, always ahead of the requisite schedules. If you want to mess around for a day or three or five, no one was going to stop him.
So he looked at different websites, different professional profiles. He started to learn about the differences between psychiatrists and psychologists. He reviewed some of the information on various marriage counselors. There was a lot out there, especially in his city.
After more than an hour of searching, he got up, and he went back into the break room. There, he saw Diana.
"Trouble in paradise?"
She had on a short skirt, black tights, and a white blouse. On the one hand, she was supposed to be a professional analyst, someone who sifted through sensitive information to draw elaborate conclusions. She was supposed be able to predict how different industries would function, thrive, or fail. Then right there, he looked at her, and she seemed more like an excited school girl.
For a moment, he wanted to tell the truth, to tell her that she didn't belong there. But of course, she still had the approval of the senior partners, so he kept his mouth shut.
"It's okay. I mean, everyone gets into a fight with their significant other from time to time." He walked over to the coffee machine, only he stopped. His shoulders bunched up. "What are you talking about?"
"It's okay if you and Erika are having some trouble. Like I said. It happens to the best of them."
"How did you know about that?"
Simply asking the question was enough to confirm her suspicions.
He turned back to her.
"I walked by your cubicle. I saw your screen."
That very well may have been true, but it also meant that she made a point of eavesdropping on his work. His screen was always tilted to the side. Usually, his colleagues were comfortable respecting his privacy. Apparently, a girl like Diana didn't see the point.
"What's wrong? Trouble in bed? Oh, did you cheat on her?"
David's eyes widened. Blood rushed in his ears, pounding, booming like explosions often the distance.
&
nbsp; "Diana, don't you have some managers cock to suck," said a second voice from the entrance into the break room.
David turned, surprised to see one of the senior partners. Michael was an older gentleman, still attractive. He had graying hair, a beard, and dark gray eyes. He was currently grinning as he leaned against of the doorway.
Dana's lips parted, and David was certain that she wanted to tell Michael off. There were probably a bunch of different insults flowing through her head. Being incompetent at her job was one thing; attacking someone of his stature was an entirely different matter. So she wisely kept her mouth shut as she turned around and stomped away.
"Thank you," David said. "But that really wasn't necessary."
"I'm sure you can handle her, and I'm sure her insults don't mean much to you," Michael said. "But at the same time, I think it's important to make sure a girl like Diana remembers her place."
"Be careful. HR might hear you."
"HR works for me," Michael replied. "Yes, I know there are rules, but Diana is already breaking them with her incompetence, so I can be honest."
David couldn't quite help but smile. At this point in his career, he was too young to make comments like that. Maybe, someday, if he had his own consulting firm or maybe a department under his command, he would be free for that kind of honesty. Until then, he could only admire someone like Michael.
"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?" Michael asked.
"Sure. What's up?"
"Was it true? What Diana said, I mean?"
David exhaled slowly through his teeth. By this point, he had his coffee. He gripped the cup a little bit more tightly even as the steam wafted up from the surface. He considered the dark brown liquid. He took a gulp, savoring the burn as it ran down his throat.
"Yeah. Erika and I've been having some trouble lately."
"What did she do?"
"Why would you assume it's her?"
"Because I've met her, and I know you, and I like to think I'm a very good judge of character. So again, if you're comfortable, tell me what she did."