Indifference

“Hello … I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself to you properly. I’m Denise, and I’m a family friend of the Turners. It’s nice to officially meet Derek’s wife. I must say that he did really well for himself. You’re a very beautiful woman.” The woman, Denise says, taking me aback. She sounds nicer than I expect.

“Oh, um, well, thanks.”

“It’s the truth, but you’re welcome. That aside, I have a feeling that you and I are going to be such good friends.”

“Unfortunately, I’m afraid that is not going to happen. Derek served me divorce papers this evening and is hell-bent on me signing them, so I’m going to be gone soon enough.” I divulge, then immediately wish I hadn't told her that.

What am I doing confiding in a total stranger about the fact that Derek wants a divorce? At my words, Denise looks shell-shocked.

In the next moment though, what suspiciously looks like happiness fleets across her face for a split second, but then, it is gone as soon as it appears, leaving me to wonder if I imagined it in the first place.

Before she can say anything in response to what I told her, the restaurant door opens and out comes Derek, looking worried.

“Denise, you shouldn’t wander off like that when we have dinner with the clients. It’s not a good look.” He tells her.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure that your wife is alright.” Denise replies. I wonder if I am the only one who noticed the condescending way she said the words ‘your wife.’

“There is no need for that. She’s a grown woman and she can look after herself.” Derek replies. He keeps looking in between us and I can tell that he is wondering what must have transpired between us before he came outside.

“I’m standing right here. You don’t have to talk over my head as though I’m a child.” I say to him, but his eyes are fixed on Denise, totally ignoring me.

“Denise, go back to the table first and take care of the other guests. I will be back soon." Derek tells her softly. In all our three years of marriage, he has never spoken to me in such a gentle tone.

“Okay, Derek.” Denise replies just as softly, her eyes locked on his. She touches his arm and then with seeming politeness, nods at me before turning to leave.

I watch her go and to my utter shock, just before she enters the restaurant, she turns and sneers at me. I knew it!

She was only pretending to be nice, but now that Derek’s back is turned to her, she is showing exactly who she is.

An uncomfortable silence follows her departure, and unable to keep my thoughts and suspicions to myself any longer, I speak.

“Who is that woman to you and why was she hanging all over you?” I ask Derek.

“She’s a business partner. I did tell you that I was going to sign an important deal tonight, didn’t I? Well, the deal is signed and we’ve come to celebrate with dinner. The other partners will join us in a bit. I hope you’ve signed the divorce papers I asked you to sign.” He replies.

“I don’t believe that a business partner would attach herself to you the way she did and neither will you be all over her like that.”

“Believe whatever you want. It doesn’t matter at all.”

“What I think doesn’t matter to you?” I ask him.

“Not in the least. Maybe try and act like a classy woman tonight and try not to create silly and meaningless scenarios in your head. Do you think you can do that for just one night?”

“Oh, a classy woman like your dear ex, whom you're still clearly in love with and whom you're trying to pass off as a business acquaintance? Are you hoping that I’ll sign the papers before having a chance to figure out who she is, so you can continue your sordid affair?” I ask him angrily, tears of hurt at his betrayal falling from my face, but he looks extremely bored and nonchalant and this pisses me off.

“Yes, try to be a classy lady like Denise instead of acting like an illiterate commoner. Did you not see how she carried and comported herself? Is that too much to ask?”

“Yes, it’s too much to ask. Do you know how embarrassing it is to me as your wife when people see your ex hanging all over you, especially when you don’t ever show such affection towards me?” I ask him, my voice quavering in pain.

“Great! You’re going to embarrass here in front of all these people. Why am I not surprised? It’s sort of your thing.”

“Oh, so now I’m an embarrassment to you?”

“Yes, you are … a very big one and you’ve always been. I wish you would act your age instead of throwing a tantrum like a toddler over trivial things.” Derek tells me, his tone sounding very patronizing.

At that point, I feel unaccustomed hatred for him course through me, along with a huge wave of self-pity. How on earth did I find myself in this sort of mess?