Sunlight On The Courthouse Steps

My wife’s first love came back to the country and said he wanted to treat us to dinner. We sat at that table for two hours. They talked for two hours. For thirty minutes of that time, he discussed my wardrobe, my career, and my income with my wife. "Your old type used to be the artsy, creative guys, right? Guess your tastes changed." Her first love offered a soft chuckle, his eyes sliding over to me. Odelya carefully peeled the shell off a shrimp and dropped the tender meat straight onto his plate. She offered him a bright smile. "Dating and marriage are two completely different things." She finally turned her head to look at me. "Right?" It was the very first time she had spoken to me all night. I set my fork down on the porcelain plate. I met her gaze head-on. "Right. Which is exactly why I would never date someone like you." 1 Odelya froze. Her chopsticks hovered awkwardly in midair. She clearly had not expected me to talk back. "I married you because you were a practical choice. There was not much love involved." I kept my eyes locked on hers. Odelya blinked. The color completely drained from her face, only to be replaced by a furious, burning red. Her first love, Wesley, was the one who broke the silence with a laugh. "Well, that is quite a statement. Marriage is all about practical conditions, of course. I totally get it." He picked up his wine glass and took a slow sip. His gaze swept over my face with thinly veiled amusement. I did not even bother acknowledging him. I just looked at Odelya. "Are you full? Let us go if you are done." She looked at Wesley, then back at me. "Dale, what is that supposed to mean?" "Exactly what it sounded like." I picked up my coat and slung my bag over my shoulder. Wesley chose that exact moment to stand up from his chair. "Are you jealous?" He tilted his head with an innocent expression. "If this bothers you, I will stop seeing Odelya from now on. You guys are married. I completely understand." To sell the act, he even reached out and gently tugged on Odelya’s sleeve. A sharp laugh actually slipped out of my chest. "I do not mind at all. Please, do not overthink it." "I have plenty of people I need to catch up with too. If she played by the rules so strictly, I would actually feel bad. You know what I mean?" Odelya shot up from her seat so fast her chair nearly toppled backward. "Dale! What kind of nonsense are you spouting!" "You heard exactly what I said." I adjusted the strap of my bag. The corners of Wesley’s mouth twitched downward, but he forced his pleasant mask back into place. "You are really misunderstanding the situation. Odelya and I are just old friends catching up. Being this passive-aggressive is just going to hurt your relationship." "Right. Catching up." I nodded slowly. "Then you two keep catching up. I am heading out." Odelya grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. "Sit down. The meal is not even over. Where do you think you are going?" I looked down at her hand wrapped around my wrist, then slowly looked up at her face. "Let go." She flinched instinctively, her grip loosening just enough for me to pull my hand back. "It is late. It is not safe for him to head back to his hotel alone, so I have to drive him." Her tone left no room for argument. "Take the subway back yourself. Text me when you get home." "Sure. You drive him." I had already pulled my phone out of my pocket. "I happen to have a friend nearby anyway. I will just have her pick me up." Odelya’s expression instantly shifted. "What friend? It is the middle of the night. A guy or a girl?" "None of your business." I did not even lift my head as I texted my coworker, Paige. Are you still nearby? Pick me up at Lumina if it is not too much trouble. She replied instantly. Be there in five. Odelya took a threatening step forward, trying to peek at my glowing screen. "Dale, you tell me right now. Who did you just call?" I looked at her with a calm smile. "If you can drive your first love home, why can't I have someone give me a ride?" "You two are just old friends catching up, right? So it is perfectly normal for me to meet up with an old friend too." Wesley was still standing awkwardly by the table. His innocent act was starting to crack. "Odelya, is your husband trying to pick a fight with me?" "I am not picking a fight with anyone." I answered before she could open her mouth. Odelya looked absolutely livid. I buttoned my coat, stepped around the two of them, and headed straight for the glass doors. "My ride is here. See you." Odelya chased me for a few steps. "Dale! Make yourself clear before you walk out that door!" I glanced back over my shoulder. "Make myself clear? I have been perfectly clear this entire time. You are just refusing to listen." I pushed the heavy restaurant doors open. The sharp night wind hit my face, instantly waking me up. A sleek silver SUV was parked right against the curb. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Paige’s face. "Hey. Over here." I pulled the door open and slid into the passenger seat. As the car pulled away from the curb, I checked the side mirror. Odelya and Wesley were standing frozen outside the restaurant doors, watching us leave. Paige gave me a quick sideways glance but did not pry. "Thanks for picking me up." "No problem. I was just finishing up dinner around the corner anyway." The car fell into a comfortable silence. I leaned my head against the leather seat, memories suddenly flooding my mind. Odelya and I had met on a blind date set up by our families. Because the pressure to settle down was so heavy, we got our marriage license after only six months of knowing each other. Life after the wedding was incredibly mundane. She worked late constantly, and I had my own career to build. I never kept score. Mainly because I was not heavily emotionally invested either. I genuinely thought a pragmatic marriage like ours could last a lifetime. Until tonight. Until her first love sat across from me, casually critiquing my clothes, my job, and my bank account. Until she peeled that shrimp and placed it delicately onto his plate. Until she publicly declared that marriage and love were two separate things. I rested my temple against the cold glass of the window, a bitter smile touching my lips. Everyone has a past. Everyone has a first love. But I would never humiliate my partner by crawling back to mine. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Odelya. Are you home yet? I did not reply. Another text popped up. Who was the person that picked you up? I typed a single word. Friend. The screen showed Typing... for a very long time. Finally, she sent one last message. We will talk when I get home. I locked my screen and shoved the phone away. When I unlocked the front door, the apartment was completely dark. I toed off my shoes, tossed my bag onto the sofa, and walked into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of ice water. My phone buzzed again. Odelya. He just moved back to the States. The apartment he rented is a disaster, so I have to help him clean and unpack. I might be home a little late. I stared at the glowing letters in the dark. Slowly, I typed out my response. Do whatever you want. You do not have to come back at all. I took a hot shower, changed into my sweatpants, and started emptying my side of the master bedroom. Handful by handful, I carried my clothes and belongings into the guest room. The bed in the guest room was smaller, but it was perfectly fine for one person. I threw fresh sheets over the mattress, fluffed the pillows, and cracked the window open to let the crisp night air in. Just before midnight, the heavy deadbolt clicked. Odelya was home. Her footsteps echoed in the hallway before coming to a dead stop in the living room. She saw me making the bed in the guest room. Her eyebrows instantly knit together in a deep scowl. "What are you doing?" "Moving my things." I placed my last stack of folded t-shirts into the small wooden wardrobe. "You are just in time. We need to talk." She walked over and stood in the doorway, her eyes scanning the stripped-down guest room. "Why are you moving your stuff? Why are you sleeping in here?" I closed the wardrobe doors and turned to face her. "Odelya, I do not think we are compatible anymore. I want a divorce." "Since we are getting divorced, sharing a bed is inappropriate." She froze. She stood absolutely paralyzed for several seconds before her face darkened into a stormy rage. "What did you just say?" "I said I want a divorce. I know you heard me." "Because of a single dinner?" Her voice pitched up into a shout. "Dale, are you really this petty? The man just moved back to the country. He invited us out to catch up. Are you seriously throwing a tantrum over this?" I leaned back against the wooden wardrobe, crossing my arms over my chest. "He sat directly across from me, insulted my clothes, and told you I lacked the creative vibe you used to love. You call that catching up?" "He was just making conversation! Why are you taking it so personally?" "What about you, then?" I looked her dead in the eye. "You sat right in front of your husband and peeled shrimp for your ex-boyfriend. You told the table that dating and marriage were two different things. Whose face were you trying to slap?" Odelya’s expression turned remarkably ugly. She pressed her lips into a thin, defensive line. "I was stating a simple fact. Marriage is built on reality. Was I wrong?" "No. You were not." I nodded slowly. "Which is why I also stated a simple fact tonight. I picked you because you were a practical choice. There was not much love involved. Was I wrong?" She took a threatening step forward, trying to look down her nose at me. "Dale, you have changed. You were never this aggressive and vindictive." I had absolutely no desire to stay stuck in this loop with her. "I have thought this through. We are not a match. I want a divorce." "You think you can just dictate a divorce?" She suddenly raised her voice, slamming the flat of her hand against the doorframe. "Dale, do you even hear yourself? You are ending a marriage over a minor disagreement? How childish can you be!" "A minor disagreement?" My own voice rose to match hers. "Your first love comes back, you invite him to dinner, completely ice me out the entire night, and then insist on driving him home while telling me to take the subway. That is a minor disagreement?" "What qualifies as a major issue, Odelya? Do I have to catch you two in my bed before I am allowed to be upset?" "Watch your mouth!" she screamed. "Watch my mouth? You are bold enough to do it, but you are afraid of people talking about it?" She took a ragged, shuddering breath. "Fine. Fine! I admit I neglected your feelings tonight. I apologize." "But you need to take the word divorce back right now. I do not want to hear it again." "I am not taking it back." "Dale!" "Stop yelling!" My voice overpowered hers completely. "You think shouting makes you right?" "When you were humiliating me in front of him tonight, did you stop to think about my feelings? And now you have the nerve to scream at me in my own home?" Her chest heaved violently. "So we are keeping score now? Because I peeled a shrimp for him and not for you? Because I talked to him and not to you? Dale, when did you become so horribly insecure?" "Yeah, I am insecure." I walked toward the doorway and shoved past her shoulder. "I am terribly insecure. Which is why I refuse to tolerate a wife who has another man living rent-free in her head. Are you satisfied?" I walked back into the guest room, pausing to look at her one last time. "I will contact my lawyer tomorrow. We will handle the asset division then." I shut the heavy wooden door in her face. There was a few seconds of dead silence on the other side. Then came a massive, violent thud. She had punched the wood. "Dale! Open this door! We are going to talk about this like adults!" I ignored her. Eventually, her heavy footsteps retreated down the hall. The master bedroom door slammed shut with enough force to shake the walls. Before today, I had never imagined my life ending up like this. The next morning, the sound of voices woke me up. There were two people talking in my living room. A man and a woman. It was Odelya. And her first love. On the glass coffee table sat a massive spread of artisan coffee, fresh croissants, and scrambled eggs. Steam was still rising from the cups. Wesley saw me walk out of the hallway. He immediately stood up, plastering a bright, welcoming smile onto his face. "Morning! I picked up some breakfast. Come eat with us." He sounded so incredibly natural. Like he was the man of the house. I stood by the hallway entrance, staring blankly at the surreal scene playing out in front of me. "Why is he here?" Odelya set her coffee cup down and cleared her throat nervously. "The apartment he rented is way too old. The plumbing and wiring are completely shot. It is a fire hazard." "He is going to stay with us for a little while. Just until his place gets repaired." I slowly walked into the center of the living room. My eyes shifted from Odelya to Wesley. "Say that again?" "He is staying here temporarily." "Absolutely not." Wesley’s bright smile shattered. Odelya finally looked up, meeting my eyes with a challenging glare. "Dale, can you stop acting like this? He is a guy who just moved back to the States. He does not know anyone in the city, and his apartment is unlivable. What is the harm in letting him crash for a few days?" "What about me?" I stepped up to the edge of the coffee table. I did not sit down. "I am your husband. I said no. I own half of this property, which means I have a veto on who gets to sleep here." Wesley quickly waved his hands, his face twisting into a mask of pure victimhood. "Please do not be mad. It really is just for a few days." "If it bothers you that much, I will just leave. It is just that the old building is so dangerous..." "You can get a hotel." I cut him off sharply. "Hotels in this city are incredibly expensive. He just got back, his job is not even stable yet." Odelya defended him immediately. "How is that my problem?" I snapped my attention back to Odelya. "Whether his job is stable or whether he has the money for a hotel room. What does any of that have to do with you? What does it have to do with this house?" Odelya shot up from the sofa. Genuine anger flashed in her eyes. "Dale, can you stop being so cruel? He is my friend. Helping a friend who is down on his luck is basic human decency!" "Basic human decency." I tasted the words on my tongue. "Your version of human decency is moving your ex-boyfriend into our marital home? You expect me to wake up every morning and watch your first love eat breakfast in my living room?" Wesley’s eyes immediately filled with tears. His voice caught in his throat. "Dale, I swear to you, I do not have any ulterior motives." "Odelya and I are strictly platonic. It has been years. If I wanted to ruin your marriage, why would I wait until now? Please do not misunderstand us." I turned my head to look at him. "I already told you, I did not misunderstand a single thing. Save the acting for someone who cares." "Dale!" Odelya roared. "Enough! You have been throwing a tantrum since last night. When are you going to drop it!" I stared into her eyes. "I said no. This is my final answer. This house is not big enough for the both of us. It is either him or me. You choose." The living room fell into a suffocating, dead silence. Wesley tugged gently on Odelya’s sleeve, his voice barely above a whisper. "Odelya, let it go. I will just pack my things. I do not want to be the reason you two fight." Odelya did not move an inch. She stared at me like I was the enemy. "Dale, if you kick him out onto the streets today, you are being completely unreasonable." "Then I am unreasonable." "Do you think I am too afraid to divorce you?" "Then let us get a divorce." It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Wesley stood beside her, his expression a chaotic mix of embarrassment, grievance, and something dark that I could not quite read. Odelya’s hands clenched into tight fists. Her knuckles popped in the quiet room. "Fine. Good. Remember what you said today, Dale." "I remember perfectly. Make sure you remember it too." I turned on my heel, walked back into the guest room, and started changing into my work clothes. Through the thin drywall, I could hear Wesley’s soft, placating voice. "Odelya, do not do anything rash. He is just saying things out of anger." "Let him." When I walked back out in my suit, they were still standing in the living room. I walked straight to the front door and slipped on my leather shoes. "I am going to the office. By the time I get back tonight, his bags better be gone." The door clicked shut behind me. Riding the subway downtown, I sent a text to Paige. Can you ask around and recommend a ruthless divorce attorney? She texted back a second later. Are you seriously pulling the plug? I am serious. Got it. I will send you a few contacts by noon. I locked my phone and leaned the back of my head against the plastic wall. The subway car rattled and swayed as it dove into the tunnels. The carriage packed tighter and tighter with morning commuters. I was shoved into a corner, my shoulder pressed hard against the freezing metal handrail. My mind was a complete mess. I remembered the day Odelya and I got engaged. Her mother had taken both my hands in hers and looked at me with teary eyes. "Dale, Odelya has someone from her past stuck in her heart. But the fact that she agreed to marry you means she is finally letting it go. Please, be patient with her." At the time, I brushed it off. Everyone has a past. My phone vibrated in my pocket. Paige had sent over three digital business cards for local family law attorneys. I bookmarked every single one. When the train finally reached the financial district, the crowd pushed me out onto the platform. My feet felt like they were floating. The morning sun outside was blindingly bright. It made my eyes sting. I squinted as I walked into the lobby of our corporate building. I bumped into Paige inside the elevator. She was holding two cups of iced coffee. She took one look at my pale face and handed me a cup. "I haven't taken a sip. You need this." "No, thank you. I am good." She pulled her hand back, leaning casually against the mirrored wall of the elevator. Her eyes scanned my face. "Dale, you look like you didn't sleep a wink." "Pretty much." Right as the elevator chimed for our floor, she added softly, "If you need a hand with anything, just ask." I nodded and stepped out onto the carpeted floor. My cubicle looked exactly the same as it did yesterday. The monitor, the folders, the sticky notes. But sitting in the ergonomic chair today, the entire world felt structurally different. I woke up my computer, stared blankly at the desktop for five minutes, and then opened a blank document to draft a divorce settlement. My phone screen lit up. A text from Odelya. Come home tonight and we will talk this out like adults. Stop being so impulsive. I dismissed the notification. There was absolutely nothing left to talk about. I did not go back to that apartment that night. I stayed at the office until ten, then took an Uber to my best friend Blake’s place and crashed on his couch. Odelya called me seven or eight times. I let every single one go to voicemail. She sent a massive block of text. The summary was pathetic: It is so hard for him to adjust after moving back. If I do not help him, who will? You are completely overthinking this. Nothing is going on between us. If you are really that paranoid, he will stay in the guest room and stay completely out of our way. I read the text and actually laughed out loud. I typed a quick reply. I am staying at Blake’s. I will be back tomorrow. You better make sure he is gone. She texted back. Are you really going to force my hand like this? I did not respond. The next morning was Saturday. I walked up to my front door just before noon. The moment I pushed the door open, I saw a pair of brand-new, cream-colored men's sneakers sitting neatly by the shoe rack. The rich smell of home-cooked food wafted through the apartment. Wesley was in my kitchen. He was wearing an apron, actively tossing something in a frying pan. Odelya was lounging on the sofa, scrolling lazily on her phone. Hearing the door open, she looked up and offered me a casual, relaxed smile. "You are back? He cooked a few dishes. Let us eat together." I stood frozen in the entryway. I did not take my shoes off. My eyes drifted from the cream-colored sneakers, to Odelya chilling on the sofa, to the busy first love in the kitchen. He turned around, offering me a sickeningly sweet smile. "Welcome back! Perfect timing, the last dish is almost done. Odelya mentioned you love braised short ribs, so I made them just for you." The apron he was wearing belonged to me. The indoor slippers on his feet belonged to me. I set my briefcase on top of the shoe cabinet and slowly walked into the room. "He is still here?" Odelya’s relaxed smile instantly tightened. "Dale, I thought about it seriously. His apartment really is unlivable right now. The contractors said it will take at least a month to fix the pipes. He is just going to stay in the guest room for a month, I promise..." "Promise what?" I stopped in the dead center of the living room. "What exactly is your promise worth?" Wesley quickly turned the stove off. He wiped his hands nervously on my apron and tiptoed into the living room. "I swear I will not disrupt your lives. I will be out job-hunting all day, and when I get back at night, I will just lock myself in my room. You can just pretend I do not exist. Please?" "No." I locked eyes with him. "You are a living, breathing human being. How am I supposed to pretend you do not exist? Besides, this is my house. I do not have to accommodate a stranger." Odelya stood up and marched right up to me. "Dale, can you just do me this one favor? He has nowhere else to go." "Whether he has a place to go has absolutely nothing to do with me." "How can you be so cold-blooded?" "You are right. I am cold-blooded." I was completely exhausted from having the same argument. "Odelya, I am telling you for the very last time. Make him leave. If his bags are still here by this afternoon, I am calling a junk removal service to throw everything in the dumpster." Tears immediately welled up in Wesley’s eyes. Huge, pathetic drops spilled down his cheeks and hit the hardwood floor. "Stop making things so hard for Odelya. I will leave. I am leaving right now." He fumbled wildly with the strings of the apron, his hands shaking so much that his elbow clipped a glass spice jar on the counter. It shattered onto the kitchen tiles. Odelya sprinted forward and grabbed his wrist. "Stop moving! Watch out for the glass!" She dropped to her knees, carefully picking up the sharp shards to protect him. Her movements were incredibly gentle and panicked. It looked exactly like a tragic, romantic scene straight out of a soap opera. I just stood there on the sidelines, feeling like the villainous third wheel. Wesley buried his face in his hands, sobbing openly. "I am so sorry, Odelya. It is all my fault you guys are fighting. I should never have come back. I never should have called you." "Do not say that." Odelya stood up, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and rubbing gently. "This is not your fault." Then, she snapped her head toward me. Her eyes were burning with pure disappointment and rage. "Are you happy now, Dale?" I looked back at her. "Odelya, do you genuinely believe I am bullying him right now?" "Are you blind? What else would you call this?" I glanced past her into the kitchen. Dark soy sauce from the broken jar was pooling across the pristine white tiles, bleeding into the grout lines. Suddenly, I was just completely done. "Fine." "Then I will leave." "Where are you throwing a fit and running off to now?" Her voice dripped with pure annoyance. "None of your business." I turned around, walked straight into the guest room, and locked the door behind me. Through the door, I could hear Wesley’s muffled, theatrical crying and Odelya’s hushed, soothing whispers. I leaned my back against the locked door, pulled out my phone, and texted Paige. Are you free right now? I need help moving some boxes. She replied a few seconds later. I am free. Send me the address. I sat on the edge of the small bed, looking around the apartment I had lived in for two years. That handcrafted Tuscan vase in the living room? I bought it during a business trip last year. That premium knife block in the kitchen? A farewell gift from the colleagues at my old firm. That massive Monstera plant on the balcony? My mother had carefully potted it and shipped it to me. I had to take all of these things with me. That afternoon, Paige pulled up in a massive SUV. I opened the front door. She walked in with another female coworker from our department. Odelya was pacing the living room on a phone call. When she saw two strange women walk into her house, she froze completely. "Who are they?" "My colleagues." I pointed toward the guest room. "Pack everything on the bed, all the clothes in the wardrobe, the Monstera plant on the balcony, and the vase in the living room. Everything goes." Odelya hung up the phone and marched over. "Dale, have you lost your mind? What are you doing?"