Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

He doesn’t look up from his laptop and I ball my hands into fists, feeling my nails digging into my palms as I clench my fists tight. I can’t believe the audacity of him—yet again. I stare at his face, not saying anything as I shake my head. What’s the point in going over this argument again? I know he won’t change his opinion of my career choice, and he knows he won’t ever stop me from working in the studio.

It’s a fruitless argument but he decides to add one more careless comment to the mix. “I could speak to the dean. With your art major, you’d be the perfect candidate to be my TA.”

And there it is. He doesn’t see me as an equal, he’s always seen me as a lesser version of himself despite us both being completely in awe of everything that is art.

The one thing we bonded over in the beginning of our relationship is now turning into our downfall.

I wake up with a small sheen of sweat on my forehead, thinking about the conversation Gerry and I had the morning that I found out he was cheating on me. It was the final straw that had me wanting to talk to him about things changing. I always supported him in everything that he did, yet he never once praised me for the work that I was doing with the kids in the studio. The bitter resentment I feel toward him now seeps through my bones like the chill on a winter’s day.

I married him and moved four hours away from my family to be with him only months after finishing college. I was young and naive, but so in love—or so I thought. He’d shown up and took interest in me when I was thrown to the curb like a piece of trash by him. I was feeling unwanted and my twenty-one-year-old self lapped up the attention he was offering.

I listen out for any movement in the house but hear nothing so I pull back the covers and leave my room before padding down the stairs and into the kitchen. I’m glad Mom’s at work today, I sought her comfort yesterday, but now I need space to think.

I clutch my cellphone in one hand, staring down at the number in her address book with a lump in my throat as I think about his betrayal. About how easily he threw our marriage to the side for a tumble in the sheets with someone that looked like one of his students. I’m aware that she probably was and that it’s also illegal, but my mind isn’t processing anything properly.

I squeeze my eyes shut. How could he do that to me? The betrayal switches to anger and my eyes spring open before I punch in the numbers, pressing call, fully determined to get the ball rolling on ridding myself of him.

“Raine, Cole, and Associates, Tara speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hi, Tara, I’m looking to file a divorce. I was wondering if you could help me.” My voice sounds bitter and I try to swallow it down.

“Certainly. Hold one moment, please,” she replies courteously.

I’m put on hold and I wait, pacing the kitchen as the instrumental music plays over the line. It’s five minutes before the music finally stops and a male voice comes on the line. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m guessing you’re the one that can help me out with my predicament?”

He chuckles. “Tara said you were looking to file a divorce and I’m confident that I can help you out. It’s not customary to do this over the phone though, can we get you an appointment slot to come down to the office?”

“Sure.”

“Just looking through the books now, how does… two weeks from now sound?”

“Oh, I—I was hoping for something a lot sooner.” I can’t keep the disappointment out of my voice, the thought of still being married—albeit separated—with a man that could sleep with someone behind my back disgusts me.

“Look, Mrs…”

“Valentine, but please, call me Harmony.”

“Harmony?” His voice raises a few octaves and is silent for several seconds before he clears his throat. “Okay, Harmony, here’s what I’m going to do for you. I have a meeting this coming Monday with a close friend that I can push back by an hour. I can fit you in then but you’d have to be here at eight in the morning. How does that sound?”

My whole body sags in relief that it’s just two days away before I can talk to him and get the ball rolling.

“Thank you, you don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

“You’re more than welcome. When you come in, tell the receptionist you’re here to see Cole.”

“I will. Thanks again, Cole. Bye.”

“My pleasure. Take care, Harmony.”

I hang up and flop onto one of the chairs at the table, my arms hanging over my knees. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders from one phone call and I’m so ready for Monday.

Drinking my cup of coffee in silence, I stare at the painting in front of me. Today is the start of a new beginning. I know it’ll take time for the whole divorce to come through, but I’m hoping both Gerry and I agree to everything so it doesn’t have to take as long as it could if he fought me for everything. All I want is half of our savings, nothing more, he can have everything else.

I drink the last dregs of coffee and take a deep breath, placing my cup in the sink and picking up my purse and keys. I lock up the front door with the key that Mom left for me and get into my car.

The drive to the city doesn’t take as long as I thought. I’m twenty minutes early, standing outside of the law firm, twiddling my thumbs. Ten minutes later a woman in a tight, gray dress and a tray of coffees in her hand appears, opening the doors and walking inside.