Dear Henry,A Story by Dorian DreddmorA short story told in the form of an extended note left by a wife to her husband.
Sorry I’m gone, I’m attending a late meeting with Jack.
You remember Jack, don’t you? Christmas Party, 2012? He came over for dinner a few times after? He punched the guy who tried to kiss me since we survived the ‘apocalypse’? So glad you were there to help. Oh wait, you weren’t, because you were at home, nursing your annual Christmas whiskey headache. It’s like I’m always saying, Henry. You’re never there when it matters. Anyway, I’m meeting Jack late tonight at the office. I have no idea when I’ll be back. The trains are on strike again, the buses will never be able to make it through the slush, so I may not even be home at all. But hey, sleeping in a car is nothing new to me, right? Remember, our anniversary? You said you had a hotel room booked for us. You said everything had been arranged. The bellhop then told us that you had never contacted the hotel before. So we spent the night in the car, you in the back and me in the front, curled up around the damn gear-stick, while you kept saying ‘Oh baby, it isn’t that bad. Why don’t we…?’ in that way you always do. Hell, I might just sleep in the office. My desk or my chair are both surely infinitely more comfortable than the couch at your mother’s. Do you remember that time, Henry? Before we were married? You brought me to meet your mother, and you were so scared of her catching us together, you insisted I sleep on the couch? Henry, you are never there for me when I need you the most. You’ve spent your life looking out for number one, and even then you don’t care. You dropped out of college to go and fix cars in your Uncle Ted’s garage. Uncle Ted is long-dead after he thought it’d be a great idea to drive drunk, and it’s only by sheer luck that you still work at that garage with the new manager. Isn’t it obvious, Henry? Not even your own uncle would put you in charge of a business. He’d much rather have someone he doesn’t know come in to take the reigns, instead of a blood-related family-member. And I see you every morning, getting in your beat-up Cadillac, and creaking your way down to the garage, and I think to myself, ‘why does he bother waking up when he has nothing in his life?’ Henry, I am a board-member of a corporation. I make more money in a year than you could make in a million years. And all of your excuses and puppy-dog-eyes won’t get you a cent at the end of the day. It strikes me now that the only reason I stayed with you for all these years is for the same reason I watch soap operas. I find them infinitely boring, but constantly tell myself ‘They’ll get better. They can’t be this bad all the time’. But Henry, that is exactly what you are. You are a let-down. You are pathetic. You are nothing more than a waste of time. Since I’ve said everything else, I might as well say this. I’m not seeing Jack for a late meeting. I’m seeing a divorce lawyer to get as fast and as far away from you as I can. The money is mine, the apartment is mine, and the ring is mine. The Cadilliac, the unwashed vests, and the out-of-date beer is yours. I hope you have a pleasant life, Henry. I know that Jack and I will. Love, your soon-to-be ex-wife, Karen © 2016 Dorian DreddmorAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on January 16, 2016 Last Updated on January 16, 2016 Tags: relationship, romance, drama, note, divorce AuthorDorian DreddmorGlasgow, East Renfrewshire, United KingdomAbout23 years old, aspiring writer in areas of film & TV, and as well as novels & short stories. more..Writing
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