Married to His Couch, Not Me

My answer didn't waver, and that was enough to drain the color from Adam Hargrove's face.

Our son, Lucas Hargrove, burst into terrified wails. Adam's parents rushed to scoop him up and calm him down.

Adam's assistant, Claire Whitfield, stepped forward and practically screamed at me. "Lena! Do you even have a heart? Do you have any idea how much Adam has sacrificed for you and this family? Are you blind?

"What, just because he bought a couch and slept in the living room instead of sharing your bed, you're going to throw a tantrum over nothing?"

Adam's father, Gerald Hargrove, had been listening to all of this, and his face was getting redder by the second.

"So that's what this is about?" he said. "Even if Adam sleeps separately, he's doing it because your body hasn't recovered from childbirth. He's being considerate, and you can't even see that?"

Every pair of eyes in the room was locked on me, burning with the same fury, like they wanted to set me on fire. Dad stepped in quickly, already in damage-control mode.

"Lena, we've all seen how good Adam is to you. If there's a problem between you two, just talk it out. Why do you keep jumping straight to divorce?"

Mom hurried over to Adam's side, rubbing his arm, trying to soothe him. "Adam, sweetheart, don't take this to heart. She's just not thinking straight right now. You're a grown man. Don't let her get under your skin."

Then she turned to me. "Get over here and apologize to Adam so we can put this whole thing behind us."

The nurses and the patients in the next bed over were watching with their jaws on the floor. But my voice didn't soften, not even a little.

"Mom, Dad, I'm not confused, and I'm not being impulsive. I mean every word. This marriage is over."

I pulled out the divorce papers I'd already prepared and held them out to Adam, my voice cold. "Sign."

Gerald couldn't hold back any longer. He slammed his hand on the bedrail and pointed at me.

"You ungrateful woman! Adam has worked himself to the bone for years to give you a good life. Things are finally starting to look up, and you turn around and ask for a divorce?

"How dare you. Do you have no shame? After everything this family has done for you?"

Dad's face went white. He raised his hand to slap me, but Mom grabbed his arm and held on tight. He stood there breathing hard, glaring at me.

"Are you really going to tear this family apart?" Adam asked. "Whatever the problem is, we can talk about it. Why does it have to be divorce, and why now?"

"There's nothing to talk about," I replied, looking at Adam.

He scoffed. "Tell me why, Lena."

"Does it matter?" My voice was flat. "We're done."

I didn't want to stay there another second. I turned to leave, but Claire grabbed my wrist and yanked me back.

"You don't get to walk away!" she shouted. "You owe him an explanation!"

I pried her fingers off me. "You're his assistant. What I do with my life is none of your business."

She wouldn't let go. She grabbed the collar of my shirt, her voice shaking with self-righteous fury. "Fine, I'm just his assistant. But what you're doing right now would disgust anyone with a conscience.

"What kind of woman does that? Your husband works himself half to death to provide for you, and you sit at home living like a princess. And instead of being grateful, you ask for a divorce. You're a disgrace, Lena. A shameless, gold-digging disgrace."

I ripped her hand off me, and without thinking, my palm connected with her face.

The slap echoed through the room. Claire stumbled back two steps and hit the floor, clutching her cheek, staring up at me in shock.

Adam rushed to her side and pulled her up, then yelled at me. "If you have a problem, take it up with me! Leave her out of this!"