She watched as his car turned the corner from where she was sitting upstairs. He pulled into the driveway and sat there for a few minutes and then got out, walked to the door. The doorbell rang and she went to answer it trying to appear casual...as if her heart wasn't beating, no...thudding in her chest, in her throat, in her stomach.

Her palms were sweaty and she wiped them on the back of her pants and went to the door and opened it.

"Hey."

She stepped aside to let him in.

"May I take your coat?"

"No. I'm not going to be long." He stood there questioningly. "Well? You said it was urgent, what's wrong?"

"I got the papers and, well...I just wanted to talk to you about it."

"We really shouldn't talk you know. You should probably just talk to your attorney."

"I don't have an attorney."

"Why Michelle? You knew this was coming. You knew." His gaze softened. "You always put off things you don't want to face."

She walked around him to the sofa. Sat down and pulled a pillow to her chest. Thought it made her look juvenile and retuned the pillow to where it was. He walked over and sat on the other sofa facing her...his shirt open at the neck, and leaned forward.

"Michelle?"

"I don't know. I just think this has gone too far. I mean...how did we get here? How did we get to where we're considering divorce?"

"I'm not considering it. This is done. We've been separated for months now." He leaned back and crossed his leg. One arm tossed casually over the back of the sofa.

"Yes, exactly. Separated. When you moved out it was so we could figure out what we were doing wrong as a couple. That's not divorce. We were supposed to start counseling"

"I don't know what to tell you. It just got to be too...hard."

"I don't want a divorce. I want it to be like it was. When you were my best friend and I was yours." She fought back tears. Blinking rapidly.

He looked away.

"Please make me understand how we got here." she whispered.

"I don't know. I just woke up one day and realized that...I didn't love you anymore."

She leaned back into the sofa and let the tears fall. She closed her eyes against them and when she opened her eyes they dropped even faster, choking back anything she could have said.

The doorbell rang and he stood up. She did too. He walked to the door and opened it, "I'll be right out." he said. He closed the door softly with his hand on the doorknob and looked at her standing away from him. He saw the girl she was when he first met her and he felt sorry for her. She hugged herself and the tears continued, her mouth opened slightly allowing her enough air to breathe...to breathe past the consuming pain.

She tried to speak and couldn't. She put her hand up to cover her mouth and closed her eyes against the pain. Nodded.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded. Her eyes closed.

He opened the door and walked out. She waited...standing there...holding herself and then walked to the door and locked it.

He doesn't love her anymore.

- See more at: http://creoleindc.typepad.com/rantings_of_a_creole_prin/author_monica_mingo/#sthash.zd5tOTz0.dpuf