Fiction: Dividing Things (427 words)

27 Apr

Jack and Olivia sat on the opposite sides of the kitchen table. They knew this was going to be hard.  They knew that there was a lot of things that had to be done, a lot of things that had to be considered, and that if they couldn’t come to an agreement, things would get nasty fast. Neither of them wanted this to get nasty.   They still loved each other—probably always would—but they just knew this had to end.

Olivia was going to get the kitchen furniture, but Jack was going to get all the pots, pans, and the fancy knife set. Jack was going to take the bedroom furniture, except for the antique vanity table that once belonged to Olivia’s grandmother. The living room furniture was junk anyway, so they were just going to get it thrown away.  Jack was going to be responsible for the selling of the house, and after the mortgage was paid off, the remaining money would be split evenly between Olivia and Jack.   There were a hundred other little details that they all hashed out and typed up.

Jack picked up the printed copies from the printer, and handed Olivia one of the copies. “Okay.  It all looks good to me, but have your lawyer look it over just to make sure that it is all above board.  I’ll do the same, and we can make an official appointment to sign it all properly and what not.”

“Sure,” Olivia tried to put on a brave face, “of course.”

“Hey,” Jack reached out a hand, looking concerned, “I know you’re not really okay, but are you okay-ish?”

Olivia took his hand, and let him pull her in for a hug.  They had agreed they had to stop doing that, because it was just going to keep making this harder, rubbing salt in the wound and what not.  But right then she didn’t care at all, she needed him to hold her close.  “Yeah. It’s just—this was supposed to be our home, Jack. Our Forever Home.” She mumbled weakly.

“I know,” Jack sighed, “I feel it too.”

Olivia took a few deep breaths, steadied herself, and pulled free of Jack’s embrace. “Okay.  I’ll give you a call when my lawyer says it’s all good.  Probably sometime next week.”

For one second, it looked like Jack was going to grab her back, hold her tight, only one thought away from calling off the whole divorce.  But then the second passed.  “Right. Sounds good,” He smiled, “I’ll talk to you next week.”

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Posted by on April 27, 2016 in Stories


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