Quitting You for Good

My CEO wife, Vivian Lynch, suffers from chronic insomnia and can only fall asleep with the pillow mists I make.

At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, her male best friend, Earl Cain, pours a basin of hot water onto the old cypress tree in the backyard.

I rush to save the tree in tears.

Earl gets on his knees and apologizes, "I'm sorry, Allen. I did not know that you use this tree's leaves to make the pillow mists."

Vivian comforts him gently and orders her men to tie me to the trunk of the tree.

She says with a scoff, "If this tree is so precious, then you can spend your life guarding it!"

After I hurt my hands from this ordeal, the first thing I do is to demand a divorce.

On one night a month later, Vivian, who is unable to sleep, goes to the backyard and sees the withered old cypress tree there.

On the seventh day of us not speaking to each other, Vivian finally came home. The dark circles under her eyes were very noticeable.

"You haven't made any new pillow mist in a while, have you?"

Vivian suffered from severe insomnia. In the past, she had only been able to fall asleep thanks to the pillow mist I made from the leaves of the old cypress tree.

I kept scrolling on my phone, barely paying attention as I fobbed her off.

"Yeah. I've been feeling lazy lately."

I had indeed been lazy. The ingredients for the pillow mist came entirely from the old cypress tree in the backyard of my parents' house. The journey was long, and the weekly excursions that ate up half my day and all my energy would leave me utterly spent.

"It wasn't like Earl meant any harm. You're being unreasonable by continuing to make a fuss about it," she said while taking a bottle of fruit wine from the fridge and sipping it slowly.

Throughout our standoff, the fruit wine Earl had found was her new method for trying to improve her sleep.

Vivian dropped a few ice cubes into her glass and shot me a sidelong glance.

"Earl didn't know what that tree meant to you. To make amends, he tracked down this spice estate. I've already had someone close the deal, and it'll be put under your name. So, let's consider the matter closed."

I found it rather laughable that she was using our shared money to purchase an estate by way of an apology on behalf of her personal assistant.

My wife was ever the generous one.

I kept it to myself, though. What came out was all courtesy.

"Fine. Tell him I said thanks."

The nonchalant expression Vivian had been wearing since she got home cracked at that moment. She looked at me with nothing but annoyance.

"Allen Osborne, what else can you do besides being jealous?"

I calmly met her gaze and said, "Get a divorce. Instead of spending your time going with your little boyfriend to buy an estate, why not just sign the divorce papers? It's not like you to take a whole week to get your signature down on something."

Vivian stared at me for a few seconds, then finally lost all interest in talking to me. She sat down on the couch and started scrolling on her phone.

Now and then, she'd furrow her brow in thought, as if she were working. I might have believed that if I hadn't caught her flirting with Earl on Instagram.

"Earl, you look really handsome today. Is it because you know I'm taking you out to dinner tonight?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I only dressed up because I'm having dinner with Mr. Lynch later."

Line after line of endearments and affection across the screen, set against the quiet of the room, told me once again that getting a divorce was the right decision.

I lowered my head and wiped the corner of my eye. In the past, arguing with her would have been my only option. Now, I had no reason to debase myself over a dead marriage.

"Did you upset my dad again?" Vivian asked.

Prompted by Earl's "friendly reminder", Vivian finally initiated a conversation with me.

"In a few days, Earl's going on a trip with Dad to help smooth things over for you. If only you'd learn a thing or two from Earl! Maybe then you'd finally show some sense."

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly.

"I'm already stepping aside so that you can marry him. Does that still not count as being sensible enough?"

Vivian shot me a dark, threatening look.

"Allen, is stirring up trouble the only thing you're good at?"

I finally stood up, giving up on my last attempt to communicate with Vivian.

"Maybe. Oh, and by the way—since you clearly don't have time to sign the divorce papers, I've already had my lawyer, Joshua Bennett, file for divorce."