I had just finished a case I had been working on for several months, and against all odds I won. McPherson v. the state of California was a high-profile first-degree murder trial where I was lead council for the first time. It was one of those newsworthy cases that was tried in the press, making it almost impossible not to have a tainted jury. Even my firm considered I had little to no chance of winning, which is probably why they chose me to lead the team. No one wants a loss on their resume. However, my closing arguments were strong enough to convince the skeptical jury of reasonable doubt. I wasn’t totally convinced myself of my client’s innocence, but his guilt or innocence was up to the system, not me.
When I left the courthouse, crowds of protesters screamed slurs and news teams pressed me for comments, but all I wanted was to go home to celebrate this victory with my wife Marika. I knew it only takes one case like this to put you on the map. After hundreds of hours of testimony with endless delays and depositions, I wanted to put this behind me. The trial had consumed my life for the last several months, and now It felt like a huge weight was removed from my shoulders; it was time to put this behind me. Consequently, I stopped at the liquor store and purchased a magnum of champagne. I knew my life was about to change, but I had no clue at the time how much.
Marika and I were both attorneys. We met while we were in our first year of law school. At first it was just a platonic relationship with both of us consumed in our studies. Marika’s ancestry was from Eastern European heritage. She was a tall shapely girl with thin facial features and long straight natural blonde hair. When we first met she did part time modeling to help pay for her law school and was gone on shoots quite often.
After about a year of sporadic dating, we moved in together. Truthfully, it was mostly out of economic necessity because she needed someone to share expenses after her roommate married and moved out. I had a decent paying part time job as a law clerk, so my employment made me an excellent roommate choice.
We maintained separate sleeping arrangements for several months. Then, one night after a bottle of wine and a couple shared joints, we ended up in her bed together. After that, I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that I loved her. I always thought how fortunate I was to have a girlfriend as hot as her. She was every mans walking, talking wet dream. I loved the jealous looks I’d receive when I was with her.
We ended up graduating in the same class and we both passed the bar exam the same year. However, we pursued different aspects of the law. I accepted an offer to become a defense attorney at a prestigious firm while she opened her own family law practice. Each of us quickly became busy in our chosen field but always supported each other. We married in the fall after graduation. It was a simple civil ceremony with just our folks and a few friends attending. About six months later, our son Timmy was born.
I was in a celebratory mood when I rushed through the front door, holding up the champagne bottle. Before I could say anything, Marika said, “I already heard. It’s all over the news. Congratulations, Jack! I knew you’d pull it off after I read your closing arguments.”
“Quit cooking. I’m taking us out to dinner. Where’s Timmy?”
“He’s at my mom’s.”
“Why?”
“I asked her to watch him because we need to talk.”
One look at her told me there was something serious on her mind. She was an outstanding lawyer but always lacked a poker face.
The change of mood made me feel like my party balloon had been popped. I couldn’t gauge by her expression what she wanted to discuss, but I knew it was serious by her tone of voice. My first thoughts were that she might be pregnant or maybe there was a health issue.
“Why the long face?” I asked.
“Jack, just go clean up. I made your favorite spaghetti with Italian sausages. We’ll talk after dinner.”
“Uh, okay—but we’re going to celebrate after we eat. I was thinking we’d go to bed early. It’s not like we have any personal time very often.”
“We’ll see… now go wash up.”
*****
I stood in the steaming shower washing my tensions away. I was thinking about how I collected myself today before I addressed the jury. I remembered how my law professor told us not to show even a hint of uncertainty to the jury. His advice was to stay resolute and stick with your strongest arguments. I did all that perfectly and I had owned that court today.
My thoughts shifted back to the present.
What could Marika be wanting to share with me?
I stepped into the dressing room from the shower and examined myself in the foggy mirror. I still looked good for pushing thirty, though not quite as toned as my swimmers’ body of the past. It was difficult with my work schedule to maintain any consistent workout routine and a healthy diet. I could blame those persistent handlebars on the readily available donuts at work or my wife’s great cooking—but that would be just an excuse. I knew that whatever went into my mouth was my responsibility, as well what came out of it, too. Food and words can have long term consequences if misused.
When I finally came to the dining table, Marika was waiting for me. She looked serious. I knew enough about her moods after five years of marriage not to push. So, before I sat down, I said with a smile, “Smells great. Anything I can do to help?”
“You can pour yourself a drink. Make me one too. Something strong.”
“Jack on ice?”
“Perfect. Make mine a double.”
We ate mostly in uncomfortable silence. She asked me about the trial and discussed Timmy just to just make conversation, but she wouldn’t give me a hint of what else was on her mind. After we ate, I cleared the table and rinsed the dishes (that was our agreement). If she cooked, I did the cleanup and vice versa.
I set the timer on the dishwasher and asked, “So, what’s this big mystery about?”
“Let’s go sit in the den. This might take a while.”
Marika picked up her briefcase along the way and sat in the recliner. She almost never sat there. I could see how nervous she was acting, so I asked, “How about a refill?”
“Fine, but make it wine—I want to be clear headed.”
I grabbed a beer for myself and poured her a glass of white wine. I handed her the drink and sat on the loveseat directly across from her, waiting. She seemed undecided as where to begin, shifting her position several times. That was unlike her because she was always focused and organized. She took a deep breath and a sip of wine.
“Jack, I’d like you to know this wasn’t a spur of the moment decision on my part, so before we discuss anything, I’d like you to look over these documents first.” Marika pulled out a folder from her briefcase and held it out to me.
After some hesitation, I reached out to take the folder from her, but she seemed reluctant to release them. It was as if she was having second thoughts. I had to pull them from her grip. When I flipped open the binder, I felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me with a punch to my gut. The first line said it all: Dissolution of MARRIAGE.
“What the fuck! Is this some sick joke?” I exclaimed and stared at her in disbelief.
“I’m afraid it’s not. I’d never joke about something as serious as this.”
“Marika… Why? Why are you doing this? Have you met someone else? I know I’ve been preoccupied lately with this case, but—”
“No Jack. There is no one else. I would never do that, and it wasn’t your case.”
“Then why? You can’t possibly think I cheated on you, can you? God knows I’ve never looked at another woman since we met. I love you and you alone.”
“I know you love me… that’s what makes this so very difficult.” She frowned.
“What have I done?”
“Jack, it’s not you, it’s me.”
“What about Timmy? He’s only five and will never understand any of this. Hell, I don’t understand it myself. Are you so unhappy that you think we can’t work things out or even try? Don’t you think I need an explanation?”
“Of course, you do, but I’m not sure you’ll understand. I’ll start by asking, how long have we known each other?”
“What the hell difference does that make?”
“All the difference in the world. Just answer my question.”
I thought a few seconds before replying, “Let’s see… about eight years? We’ve been married five years next month and we lived together three years in college… right?”
“Correct. And why did we get married?”
“That’s easy, I love you more than breathing.”
“I know you do, but that’s not the only reason you asked me to marry you.”
“If you’re referring to your pregnancy with Timmy, that’s not why I asked. I asked you long before you were pregnant.”
“Yes, you did. In fact, you asked me three times. Do you remember what my answer was each time?”
“You said you weren’t ready.”
“That’s not accurate, my answer each time was no, not maybe. I said I’d only marry for love and I wasn’t in love with you. It was clear we were just friends—friends with benefits, but still… only friends. When I discovered I was pregnant, I was still hesitant to marry you, but you insisted you loved me enough for the both of us. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, and I still do.”
“Eventually, when I started to show, I said yes because I didn’t want my child being born out of wedlock. But I also don’t want to be trapped in a loveless marriage, like so many couples I’ve known.”
“I still don’t understand. Where have I failed you, Marika?”
“You haven’t failed me. You’re the most caring man I’ve ever known. Plus, you’re highly intelligent and a sensitive lover. I thought I would have to be crazy not to marry you. I truly believed that in time I would grow to love you.”
"So, what’s the problem?”
“The problem is, after five years, I still don’t love you with the passion a wife should love her husband. Of course, I care for you and I always will. You’re my best friend and father of my son. I truly believe that eventually you’ll find a woman who will love you as you deserve.”
“That’s a load of crap. I could never love another woman the way I love you. Plus, we have Timmy. Please don’t do this to us,” I begged.
“Jack, this wasn’t some knee jerk thing on my part. By staying married it’s robbing both of us of happiness. Eventually you’ll thank me. I have faith you’ll find your true soulmate. We’re both still young and it’s a really big world.”
“Ahh, I was wondering when you were going to bring that up. If you want to date, go right ahead, but don’t try and tell me what’s good for me. That’s bull crap. This is all about you, not me, and certainly not about Timmy.”
“No, that’s not it,” she sighed. “I’m not in a hurry to find a replacement. You’re my husband and while we’re still married, I’ll never break my vows. I won’t even consider any other men until the divorce is final.”
“Why not? What the hell difference does it make? You might as well get a jump start. Isn’t that what you want? Are you so convoluted that you think honoring your wedding vows is more important than honoring me?”
“Jack don’t say that. I respect you more than anyone.”
“I sure don’t feel respected. Do you want me to move out so you can bring your boyfriends here and fuck them in my bed?” I replied in frustration.
Marika jumped out of the recliner with her eyes ablaze and slapped my cheek, screaming, “I don’t have any boyfriends, you asshole. I told you I haven’t cheated on you and I’m not suggesting you move out. I was thinking we’d just go back to the way things were before we got married.”
“Are you serious? Like before we married? Friends? Friends with benefits? How’d that work out the first time?” I shouted slamming my fist on the table.
I reached my boiling point. I was pissed. She must have thought I was going to strike her the way she recoiled when I stepped forward. Instead, I picked up the documents I had tossed on the coffee table and started to read. I assumed she had put this decree together herself, since that is what she did every day as an attorney.
It was listed as a no contest divorce stating irreconcilable differences and joint custody as the primary issue, with an even split of assets and no alimony. She proposed the house was to go to me because I used the balance of my college funds to make the down payment. All she requested for herself was half the accrued equity on the house and half our cash assets. On the surface this seemed like a noncontentious settlement. She didn’t request any attachment of my 401-retirement savings, and there was nothing in the details that indicated any form of animosity. It appeared to be a fair and amicable split. I knew enough about divorce law to know she could easily get more than she asked.
