Mollie McQueen is NOT Getting Divorced

by Lacey London

  ‘You sound like your mind is already made up.’ Max said eventually, a tone to his voice Mollie didn’t recognise.

  ‘It is.’ She confessed. ‘It’s the right thing to do. Given time, you will see that for yourself.’

  Max rubbed his temples as the words game over flashed up on the television screen.

  ‘In that case, tell me about this separation.’ He said emptily, stretching his arms up above his head. ‘What does it mean? How does it work? What do I need to do?’

  Quietly surprised by his willingness to cooperate, Mollie smiled gratefully.

  ‘I have the paperwork explaining everything in my handbag. Do you want to read it?’

  Max nodded, and Mollie took this as her cue to retrieve the documents from the dining room.

  ‘Here you are.’ Handing over the many sheets of paper, Mollie held her breath as she waited for his response. ‘There’s quite a lot to read through, but it’s not as daunting as it sounds.’

  Max squinted at the printouts as he skim-read the text before dropping the papers onto the sofa next to him.

  ‘Is all this really necessary, Mollie?’ He asked, turning to face her. ‘You don’t want to be together anymore, I get that, but all this? Court dates and lawyers’ fees? Are we really at that point already?’

  Mollie glanced at the stack of paperwork and shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘What’s the difference between legally separated and just plain old separated?’ He persisted. ‘Why can’t we go our separate ways and deal with all this crap later?’

  Mollie considered his question for a moment, but the truth is, she could do without the legal side of things too. Why couldn’t they just go their separate ways? Why did they have to dive straight in with such an official process?

  ‘Let’s just take a break.’ Max said seriously. ‘Let’s give each other some breathing space and see how we feel after a few days...’

  Mollie looked at Max and felt her heart sink.

  ‘I think we’re a bit past taking a break, Max.’ She replied, desperately wanting to keep him onside. ‘Delaying the legalities of the situation wouldn’t change the outcome.’

  ‘You don’t need to ram it down my throat.’ He grumbled, brushing back his hair. ‘You don’t want to be with me anymore, I get it.’

  A stab of guilt hit Mollie as Max looked down at the ground dejectedly.

  ‘I have no problem with separating. We can separate right now.’ He said unconvincingly. ‘As of this very second, we are no longer together, but can you at least respect my wishes and delay the court stuff for a little while?’

  Mollie stared back at him and saw a glimpse of the man she fell in love with.

  ‘Please?’ He persevered, his grey eyes burning into hers.

  With Kenny Freeman’s words of warning about divorce ringing in her ears and her gladness at Max’s cooperation so far, Mollie didn’t see any reason not to go along with his request.

  ‘Okay.’ She said finally, offering him a strained smile. ‘For the time being, we can deal with this ourselves.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Max replied, picking up his gamepad once more. ‘I appreciate it.’

  Sensing this was an end to the conversation, Mollie stood up and walked into the hallway as Max returned to his game. His willingness to cooperate made her hope that the split would be amicable, but upon walking into their bedroom, Mollie spotted the first potential problem with their arrangement.

  The one-bedroom mews meant there wasn’t any space at the best of times, let alone for two people in the midst of a separation. Hearing yet more groans drift up the stairs, Mollie gathered the spare duvet and a couple of pillows from the airing cupboard. Retracing her steps, she paused next to the sofa before tactfully handing over the bedding.

  Without giving them a second glance, Max accepted the duvet and tossed it onto the armchair next to him.

  ‘Thanks.’ He mumbled, momentarily looking up from the television.

  As Mollie started to walk away, she stopped when she heard a light clatter behind her.

  Looking over her shoulder, she smiled sadly when she saw Max’s wedding ring on the coffee table.

  ‘Goodnight, Mollie.’ Max said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

  ‘Goodnight, Max…’

  Chapter 6

  Sunshine flooded into the room as Mollie let out a tired yawn before opening her eyes. The fact that she couldn’t hear Max’s infuriating hypnosis tape reminded her she was alone. Allowing her eyes a moment to adjust to the morning light, Mollie rolled onto her back and enjoyed the freedom of having the entire bed to herself. Not having to wrestle Max’s long limbs for space was a welcome relief, but the moment her eyes focused she realised all was not as it seemed.

  ‘What the hell…’

  Squinting at the ceiling, Mollie scowled when she noticed a pink square on the light fitting above her head. Slowly pushing herself up, she stood on the tips of her toes to retrieve the sticky note. Mollie. Turning it over in her hands, she rolled her eyes and dropped back down onto the bed. The light fitting in question had always been a sore subject for Max and Mollie. Just thinking back to the day they bought it filled Mollie with fury.

  After two hours of deliberations in the home furnishings aisle of their local furniture store, Mollie finally convinced Max the light fitting was worth the enormous price tag and most certainly did not look like it had been pulled from the shredder. The expression on Max’s face when the electrician remarked it looked like something from the bottom of a hamster’s cage was priceless, but Mollie hadn’t heard the last of it since.

  Crumpling the sticky note into a ball, Mollie threw it onto the bedside table and gasped when she noticed another note on her half of the wardrobe. Jolting to attention, she dived out of bed and looked around the room with wide eyes. They were everywhere. Pink. Blue. Mollie. Max. Maximilian had covered the entire room with his and hers tags. While Mollie was sleeping, absolutely everything had been labelled with its rightful owner. He might as well have pulled down his pants and peed around the bedroom, like a dog marking its territory.

  Walking around the bed, Mollie began to remove the offending labels and froze when she spotted a blue sticky note on her Fendi handbag. With a sudden rage, she threw open the bedroom door and furiously made her way down the stairs. The same stickered trend continued throughout the rest of the house, and Mollie paused by the antique mirror in the hall to remove yet another blue label.

  ‘Max!’ She yelled, marching into the kitchen to find him at the blender. ‘What the hell is all this?’

  ‘Good morning, roomie.’ Spinning around, Max flashed Mollie an innocent grin as he flipped through the mail.

  ‘Is this supposed to be funny?’ She demanded, very aware that the straps on her camisole had fallen dangerously low. ‘Is this your idea of a joke?’

  ‘I thought this was what you wanted?’ He said casually, leaning against the kitchen unit. ‘You do still want to separate, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes!’ Mollie retorted exasperatedly. ‘Of course I do, but…’

  ‘But what?’ He fired back. ‘I read the paperwork you gave me. If we’re separating, the best way to start is by separating our belongings.’

  Mollie rubbed her face wearily and groaned.

  ‘Hey, this is what you wanted, Mollie.’ Max said, a slight smile playing on his lips. ‘I’ve done exactly what you wanted.’

  Not wanting to rise to his blatant attempts at winding her up, Mollie simply nodded in response.

  ‘This is what I want.’ Trying her hardest to no longer appear bothered by his efforts to annoy her, Mollie folded her arms defensively. ‘It’s just that you seem to have mislabelled some of my belongings as yours.’

  Max raised his eyebrows questioningly and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

  ‘For instance, I found this on my handbag.’ Mollie said calmly, holding out the blue label. ‘You clearly must be mistaken.’

  ‘There’s no mistake.’ C
hopping up the apple, Max tossed it into the blender. ‘I bought you that handbag for our first wedding anniversary, remember?’

  Not quite believing what she was hearing, Mollie stared back at him open-mouthed.

  ‘Well, yes, but you bought it for me.’ She stammered. ‘It was a gift. You just said so yourself.’

  Waiting until the blender stopped whirring, Max offered Mollie an apple.

  ‘That’s correct, but after you went to bed last night, I did a little investigating. It turns out that some couples return gifts in divorce settlements.’ He replied cockily, tossing the rejected apple into the air and catching it effortlessly. ‘It’s better to start as we mean to go on, right?’

  Anger bubbled in the pit of Mollie’s stomach, but she refused to let it show.

  ‘In that case, you won’t mind me labelling the blender.’ Spotting the sticky notes on the chopping board, Mollie scrawled her name on the pink pad.

  ‘Christmas present, if I remember correctly.’ She said smugly, enjoying the look of horror on Max’s face. ‘Along with that lovely watch on your wrist.’

  Max looked at his cherished Rolex and frowned.

  ‘Do you want me to write out a label for you?’ Mollie offered, picking up the pen once more. ‘Or should I just take the one you accidentally left on my mirror in the hall?’

  ‘You’re going to have to write a new one, because that mirror was a wedding present from my parents, remember?’ Walking over to the breakfast bar, Max held out the pad of notes.

  ‘I think you will find that your mum and I chose that mirror together.’ Mollie said breezily, taking the pad from him. ‘I picked it myself. Therefore, it’s mine.’

  ‘I’m not going to argue with you, Mollie.’ Max laughed loudly and pulled his dressing gown tightly around his body. ‘When people separate, their goods also have to separate. That’s the way the cookie crumbles.’

  Mollie looked out of the window and took a couple of deep breaths. She knew what his game was and she wasn’t going to let him win at it. He didn’t want the bloody mirror, or the handbag he knew she loved so very much. He was just trying to hit her where it hurt.

  ‘Okay.’ She said coolly, heading for the coffee machine. ‘We can sort out the finer details later. Like you said, there’s no need to deal with the legal stuff right now.’

  Squeezing her hands into fists, Mollie kept a strained smile on her face as she waited for the machine to fire into action.

  ‘That’s true, but we do want to start as we mean to go on, don’t we?’ Max persisted, blatantly enjoying the pantomime. ‘Like you said, delaying the legalities of the situation won’t change the final outcome.’

  ‘I completely agree, Max, and I am so pleased that you’re being so accommodating.’ Spinning around to face him, Mollie clutched her mug tightly. ‘It’s going to make this whole thing so much easier.’

  ‘It certainly is.’ Max agreed, pouring his smoothie into a glass. ‘So, if you wouldn’t mind returning your engagement ring to me at your nearest convenience, that would be greatly appreciated.’

  Mollie pursed her lips and resisted the urge to throw Max’s blender out of the window.

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t ask for the wedding band back.’ Max continued. ‘There’s no need to be pedantic.’

  Placing her cup on the counter, Mollie leisurely walked over to Buddy Holly’s fishbowl and stuck her hand into the water. Ensuring she picked up a smattering of fish poop along with the ring, Mollie carried the dripping opal to Max and dropped it straight into his smoothie.

  ‘There you are, roomie. If you do decide to be pedantic, you should know that the wedding band is still in there.’ Delighting in the look of horror on Max’s face, Mollie grabbed her coffee and pushed open the kitchen door. ‘Have a fabulous day…’

  Chapter 7

  Jumping off the tube, Mollie weaved her way through the buzzing crowd of people and stumbled out of the busy station. After being rudely woken that morning, Mollie left for work believing she had taken the upper hand. Once she had destroyed Max’s breakfast with fish faeces, she somehow proceeded to get ready for her working day without giving another thought to the demise of her marriage. Listening to Max label everything in the house did prove to be quite the distraction, but she quickly learned that the less attention she paid to him, the less he did it. If Max’s plan in dealing with this separation was to aggravate Mollie at every turn, she was not going to give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction.

  Spotting Tim from the IT department making his way into the Payne and Carter offices up ahead, Mollie intentionally slowed down. Like the rest of her co-workers, she avoided Tim like the plague and today would be no different. His ability to make absolutely everything sound sexual made her want to vomit. That, combined with his weirdly long fingernails and clothes that smelled of cat urine were the reasons why Mollie would regularly risk an asthma attack climbing ten flights of stairs rather than take the lift with him.

  Discreetly waiting until the coast was clear, Mollie quickened her pace and pulled open the door to her building. The white reception desk stood proudly in the centre of the gleaming foyer as Mollie gave the receptionist, Beatrice, a polite wave. While she patiently waited for the lift, animated chatter filled the air, creating the electric buzz that made Mollie feel alive inside. Her love for her job made Max’s attitude towards working so much more irritating. Mollie would never understand how he could sit at home all day, without anything pushing him and driving him to succeed. The idea of a life so bland just seemed so alien to her.

  Being one of the youngest executives in her firm, Mollie was used to listening to her workmates talk about their upcoming retirement plans, but to her, retirement was her worst nightmare. The prospect of filling her time with visits to the seaside and exercise classes for pensioners made her feel claustrophobic. It made her want to breathe into a paper bag and pour herself a chamomile tea. The thrill of meeting tight deadlines, giving presentations and working with big clients gave Mollie a high that nothing else could match. Payne and Carter was to Mollie what the PlayStation was to Max. It was her one true love and everything else had to slot in behind it.

  As Mollie stared into the distance, mentally comparing herself to Maximilian, the lift doors glided open and Tim stood before her.

  ‘Molls!’ He sang gleefully, pushing the young intern next to him out of the way to make room for her. ‘What’s happening?’

  Mollie visibly groaned and let out a whimper.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ He asked, grinning inanely. ‘Get in here!’

  ‘On second thoughts, I think I’ll take the stairs.’ She said, faking a smile. ‘I could do with the exercise.’

  Turning around, Mollie thanked her lucky stars that she had made an escape and prepared herself for the mammoth journey she was about to face.

  ‘Molls! Wait up!’

  A frown appeared on Mollie’s face as she reached for the railing and debated making a run for it.

  ‘Molls!’ Tim yelled, even louder than the first time.

  Mollie took a deep breath and fought the urge to tell him that if he called her Molls one more time, she was going to shove his umbrella where the sun doesn’t shine.

  ‘Hi, Tim.’ She said, her monotone voice indicating that she wasn’t in the mood for talking. ‘I thought you were taking the lift?’

  Panting for breath after running across the foyer, Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out an inhaler.

  ‘I’m never one to shy away from a bit of exercise!’ He replied, shooting her a wink. ‘Although, there are better ways to get your heart rate up, if you know what I am saying?’

  Concentrating on getting up the stairs as quickly as possible, Mollie took the steps two at a time.

  ‘I think even Beatrice knows what you’re saying.’

  Tim slapped his thigh and laughed as though Mollie’s remark was the funniest thing he’d heard in his entire life.

  ‘You do crack me up, Molls.’ H
e chuckled, desperately trying to keep up with her. ‘You’re such a comedian.’

  Mollie maintained a thin smile and kept her gaze fixed straight ahead.

  ‘Speaking of comedians, there’s a fantastic stand-up on at the Blue Fajita in Fulham.’ He continued, unaware that Mollie was silently cursing him into oblivion. ‘You’re in Fulham, aren’t you?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you fancy joining me down there one night, do you? Few drinks, bite to eat, maybe a little exercise afterwards?’

  Mollie shot him a filthy look and Tim quickly backtracked.

  ‘Bowling!’ He explained teasingly. ‘I’m talking about bowling! There’s a bowling alley a few doors down!’

  Mollie responded with yet another frown as they reached the halfway point.

  ‘I didn’t mean that, obviously.’ Tim added, puffing on his inhaler once more. ‘I know you’re off the market, so to speak.’

  Mollie automatically glanced at her bare ring finger and noticed Tim do the same.

  ‘Or not?’ He said hopefully, stopping on the staircase. ‘If you’re back in the dating game, forget bowling. Let me take you on a proper night out. None of this fajita and a pint rubbish. I’m talking fine dining…’

  As Tim proceeded to do his best to talk Mollie into letting him enjoy her company for a night, she rolled her eyes so hard she gave herself a headache. Little did Tim know Mollie was simply too polite to tell him she would rather spend the evening in a swamp with Shrek than go anywhere with him.

  It hadn’t escaped Mollie’s attention that it was her first day at work without her wedding band and she was already being hit on by the dregs of the office. She couldn’t help but think there needed to be a universal ring system to alert the rest of the dating population to your availability. Green - I am available. Yellow - I could possibly be available if the right person came along. Red - under no circumstances hit on me unless you are prepared to accept a swift dig to your nether regions. At that very moment, Mollie knew which ring she required.