Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • Two weeks ago, while at my youngest daughter's flag football game, I got an unexpected call. "Hi, Ms. Jofre?" said the woman's voice on the other end. I barely recognized her tone given that the last time I had spoken to her had been three weeks ago and inside my lawyer's office. "Yes, this is she", I replied. "It's Cary", she said. "From Stuart & Gold’s? I'm calling to let you know we have a date for your divorce hearing". Just minutes earlier my soon ex-to be husband had left my side to go get a couple of beach chairs from his car for us to sit on. The weather couldn't have been more perfect. There was a nice cool breeze, and the sun desires to play peek-a-boo through the clouds made the outdoors experience even more enjoyable.

    As I heard her words, my heart sank a little. The honest truth is that I knew the day would come soon, but I was not looking forward to it in any which way, shape or form. "When is it?" I asked. "It is scheduled for April 3rd,” she said. My heart sank just a bit more. "You mean next week? I replied. "Yes, next week Thursday. Make sure everyone has taken the divorce classes by then", she finalized. “Ok, thank you” was all I said. The conversation was over in less than thirty seconds, and it was finally happening. It was confirmed. After three and a half years of a separation period, the marriage would be dissolved in seven days.

    As I clicked my phone off, I turned, and saw him approaching. Chairs in hand, wearing his newest muscle gray t-shirt, black basketball shorts and Rayband sunglasses, he strutted towards the left side of the grass field. There, under a large oak tree, we had found the perfect spot to watch our daughter play ball. His step was upbeat; he looked healthy, content and worry-free.

    As he opened the seats and laid them on the grass, I continued to process the information trying not to get too overwhelmed by my leftover fatalistic deep seeded emotions. We proceeded to sit next to each other with the comfort and ease of good old friends. I took off my shoes as he opened his New York Times paper to the puzzle of the day. And why wouldn’t we be? This man had been my significant other, my rock and my best friend for almost half of my lifetime.

    A short while later, as he was looking straight ahead at the kids rummaging it finally burst out of my mouth “ I just got a call from the lawyer’s office”, I said. No reaction… No reply. I thought it weird given that he was sitting no more than six inches away from me. Then I realized the white headphones he was sporting must have been on. I don’t know when or how this trend began with him, but I think it was soon after he left home. Now I see many folks wearing these portable gadgets everywhere I go. He is one of them. I personally think it weird. Given his lack of a response, I decided to poke him in the arm. He turned startled and said “Oh…. sorry about that… I was listening to music”. Really? Music? My inside bitchy voice reproached.

    So I went ahead and I repeated myself. “ I just got a call from the lawyer’s office”. He just looked at me, emotionless. And continued to do so for what felt like a long couple of seconds, although I’m sure it was less than that. “Aren’t you going to ask me what they wanted?” I said. His puzzled look said it all “I thought you were going to continue going with the story. What did they say?” He responded hastily. “We have the divorce hearing next week”, I said trying not to sound overly emotional. “Good”, he uttered as he turned to look at the kids. His nonchalant reply annoyed me. “Don’t you feel just a little bit sad?” I asked hoping for some heart talk. Without moving a muscle, poker-faced, he replied, “Well, (short pause) it’s a passing”.

    Last Thursday, in the heart of Downtown Miami, amongst twenty-some total strangers, we appeared in front of a judge and ended our eighteen-year marriage in less than five minutes time.
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.