I Want a Divorce

4. Bothered

I hugged my legs, tears slipping from my eyes and splashing into the bathwater, merging into that vastness. I was full of insecurity; I knew from therapy and talks with my friend David that I needed to acknowledge the things I did well, but I couldn't see even a glimmer of light, at least not at this moment.

My fingers were wrinkled from spending so much time in the water, and the shower had warmed the room, so I decided to pull the plug to let the water drain. I wiped the salty drops from my eyes, reached for the towel as I stood up ready to start getting dressed, even though I didn't have the slightest bit of desire to do so, I felt awful.

I sighed heavily at my reflection in the mirror, my hair soaked, but I started with the routine. Almost unwillingly, I applied body lotion, deodorant, hair cream, and put on some nice lingerie. I had to lift my spirits somehow. I put on a red dress with a bit of lace and stockings to ward off the cold the rain had left in the air. In front of the mirror I stood there looking at myself or rather judging myself as I had been taught. Voices in my head told me that the color and cut didn't flatter my body shape, that I looked pretentious and that it seemed like I wanted to draw attention at all costs.

I felt uncomfortable, the dress looked tight and too short, even though it was just above the knee; I felt vulgar, outdated, and fat, maybe it was the style or my mood that had me feeling that way. I took off the dress and threw it onto a chair in the dressing room.

I reached for my phone to distract myself under the guise of checking a message that had come in a while ago. It was from Deniska apologizing again for not being able to go with me to the café, I didn't hesitate to reply.

“Don't worry, when the kids are little, it's hard, I know all too well…” I replied and left the phone beside the dresser. I had to keep getting ready. Maybe if I started with the makeup, the dress would be easier to choose afterward; there was less than an hour before Ivo arrived, and I wanted him to be left speechless when he saw me, maybe in a desperate attempt to get him to notice me somehow.

It had been a long time since I had provoked that kind of reaction, or any reaction really, in my husband and I wanted to feel capable of doing it; but it had been quite some time since I last put on makeup. My routine had been: mascara, nude lipstick, and plucked eyebrows, since Benny was born. But I would try, I had nothing to lose, I just hoped my cosmetics hadn't expired, I dusted off the last things I had bought, put on a video on YouTube and began.

It took me much longer than I thought; I couldn't even manage to put on false eyelashes, and when I managed to make them look decent, I poked my eye with the eyeliner while filling in the inner line of the eye, so the tears ended up removing the still fresh and poorly applied glue. So I opted to curl my lashes and then apply 5 coats of mascara to make them look decent.

Dark red lipstick completed the dramatic makeup. It didn't look at all like the video, but I looked very good, I felt beautiful, even if just a little. I put on some accessories to complement it, and styled my hair with the straightener to make some very soft flirty waves. The phone vibrated, notifying me of a new incoming message.

"How many children do you have?" The woman from the supermarket replied to the message, making small talk. She had saved me in her contacts, and now I could see her photo. It showed her with her son, a truly beautiful picture. Nikola and she were forehead to forehead, smiling, with a cut-off silhouette on the side, only showing the hand of who I assumed was the father of her child.

"Two. The oldest is 8 and the little one is 5. Do you only have Nikola?" I wrote and proceeded to try on the dresses I considered most appropriate for dinner with my husband. I took out about 4 different dresses, and none made me feel comfortable until I found a black one, a bit low-cut in the back.

I held the phone in my hands, wanting to be completely sure of my choice, so I looked for David's contact and sent a photo of the result for him to tell me what he thought. I was expecting a message but instead received a video call.

"You look fabulous, Regi!" he exclaimed with big, bright eyes, snapping his fingers in the air, making me feel so beautiful that I blushed. "Where are you going?"

"Ivo invited me to dinner," I replied somewhat blandly, already knowing that David wouldn't like that and would bite his tongue not to tell me what he thought. "Do I really look good? Don't lie to me. I don't know if I should stick with this dress."

"Are you implying that I lied? Because I never would. Woman, you'd look incredible even with a cloth bag. And anyone who doesn't see that is a fool," he concluded, considerably boosting my spirits. "What time are you leaving?"

"When Ivo arrives, he shouldn't be long," I noted after checking the time on the phone. I had taken a bit longer than my husband said he would, but that wasn't unusual. I often waited for hours before Ivo showed his face at the door.

"What will you do while you wait?" he asked carefully. I gave my handsome friend a smile and shrugged. Of course, David understood without any problem; I hadn't planned anything. "Do you want to smoke a cigarette with me? While I tell you what happened with me today..."

My friend was tall, about 1.85 meters, with an enviable body, very masculine, with an incredible voice, long eyelashes, full lips, and a sharp nose. He was often busy for long periods, touring with his various theater productions, filming a series, or even a movie. The truth is, he was very handsome, and more than one woman had thrown herself into his arms on various occasions; but David had no interest in any of them, his preferences were different. Currently, he seemed very happy and stable with a French fashion designer he had met after the presentation of one of the last musicals he performed while on a tour in London.

Unlike David, I hardly smoked, especially because of my children, but since they weren't around and Ivo hadn't arrived yet, I accepted the invitation, took one of the cigarettes I had hidden in a drawer, and sat on the balcony to listen to David recount his adventures with grace and great detail.

"Do you remember how we met?" my friend suddenly asked, to which I responded with a big smile. We had almost 20 years of friendship, so we had experienced many things together. I nodded, sometimes remembering it with great fondness. "Well, let me tell you, dear, you haven't looked as beautiful as you did that day until today, and of course, on your wedding day," he added sensibly.

We met on the day I graduated from high school, so I was wearing a long dress. I went into a grocery store to buy cigarettes, and he was there. He looked at me with wide eyes and said, “Girl, you’re a goddess,” snapping his fingers in the air, just like he had done earlier.

—Aww, my friend! I love you so much —I replied sincerely.

—And I love you more. Regi, I have to go, rehearsal is about to start and this man you see here got the lead role, so I can’t mess up. I love you, let me know if you need anything.

David hung up the phone and I checked the time… There was no message from Ivo, and he was already over 40 minutes late.

“He’s probably on his way,” I excused him mentally as I lit another cigarette and opened a phone app, just to pass the time playing or reading. For some time, reading had become a safe haven for me. The novels I found kept my mind occupied, enough to numb reality with ideas, or maybe they tortured me more, since what I read had nothing to do with what was happening in my life.

A new message from Deniska appeared on the screen, but I didn’t want to open it just yet. I needed to distract myself and change my mood.

The electric gate sounded, alerting me to the imminent arrival of my husband. I turned off the phone to go meet him, hoping he would walk through the door and notice me, say something or give me one of those looks he no longer gave me. Something, anything to tell me he still loved me. Instead, he appeared at the door, gave me a half-kiss on the forehead, and headed to the kitchen to get some juice from the fridge.

—Did you make the bed? —he asked, without looking at me.

His words irritated me so much that I could only huff. He hadn’t seen me all day and was asking about the bed. For God’s sake! I was all dressed up to go out to dinner with him, and the only thing that mattered at that moment was the bed being made.

—No. Aren’t we going anywhere? —I asked, disappointed, causing him to groan with meaningless sounds.

—Sorry, I forgot. Today was a busy day —he said, walking with the glass of juice in hand, without looking at me. When he reached the room, his voice became muffled, and he had to shout for me to hear him—, a supplier is behind on more than half of the supplies and the investors' meeting is on Monday. Let me take a shower and we’ll go out.

—Alright —I replied with resignation, walking to the room to find out what he was telling me, since I was interested in knowing what had happened— Did the supplier issue get resolved?

—Yes. He said he would send the rest first thing Monday morning —Ivo said, taking off his shoes on the bed as I entered the room—, but we have to keep chasing them. Oh, I haven’t told you! We’re about to close a deal with a supermarket chain —he got up to take off the rest of the blue suit and left it lying there, with no intention of picking it up, he headed to the bathroom in his underwear, showing off his well-toned muscles with pride.

—That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!

—Yes, me too. It sounds like I’ll finally be able to pay off the bank loan —he noted, still not looking at me as he took off his underwear and turned on the shower.

He pulled the shower door, but before it was completely closed, he poked his head out to look for me. His eyes locked onto mine, and in a demanding tone, he requested:

—Regina... —he said, then gave a half-smile, glanced at me, and then at the rest of the room behind me— Can you tidy the bed while I shower? So that when we get back we can lie down and watch a movie.

Without saying anything, I nodded, planning to tidy up the room, shake out the sheets, and pick up his clothes from the floor, all in heels. I won't lie, I thought he'd say more, like telling me I looked beautiful or something, but that was the end of his conversation. I tried to ask him something else, but the running water from the shower prevented him from hearing me, and I ended up discarding the idea of talking at that moment; there would be time at the restaurant.

Ivo got ready without saying a single word to me, limiting himself to asking the smart speaker to play his selection of favorite songs. I found it amazing that, since I met him in college, he had kept his music. In fact, he was a very rigid man in some ways; his tastes had always been the same, in terms of clothes, food, even his way of thinking had changed very little over the years, he remained rigid and stubborn.

—Are you done? —he asked when he was ready to leave— I'm just waiting for you.

—Yes, I'm done —I replied dryly and somewhat annoyed—. Let's go.

—Are you angry? —he asked incredulously— Regina?

—Yes, Ivo. I'm upset. But let's go, I'm hungry.

—Then you're not angry, you're just hungry —he said, and I looked at him puzzled, I had just told him exactly what was wrong, and he changed it? That really got on my nerves— Let's go. Before you get angrier for not having eaten, you always transform when you're hungry.

I don't know what my husband expected, that I would throw flowers in the air since he got home or something like that. Of course, I was upset; he had taken longer than he said, and on top of that, he said those things to me. Honestly, the frustration rose up my throat and burned; he didn't even say anything about how I had dressed up, or ask about my day, nothing.

I was about to respond, annoyed by the inappropriate comment my husband made, when a call came to his phone. He immediately answered, without looking at me, turned around to walk to the door, gesturing with his hand for me to follow while yelling at someone on the phone about the decisions they made without his consent.