Daniel – 1
My wife, Ellen, divorced me when our daughter, Gabi, was eight. I didn’t realise how much she resented my commitment to my job.
I suppose if I were more alert I would have noticed.
I recall her denouement, that loud revelation of why she wanted a divorce.
She began with my being late for dinner. How we had always eaten at five. She went on as if it were a Biblical Commandment that I be home and at dinner at five.
As she never knew when I’d be home she would eat at Five p.m. How was it I hadn’t noticed that she no longer waited for me?
When I came home to a singular meal I assumed she had been hungry and didn’t see the point in waiting.
Ellen’s next proclamation is why hadn’t I noticed she had brought her Aunt Sophie to live with us when Gabi was six months old so that she could return to work.
I did notice that, and said so.
Ellen shook her head and said that it wasn’t just work she returned to, it was her life. A life without me.
I had no idea that I was so neglectful and distant. To me, everything she did had an innocent explanation.
So Ellen divorced me, took the house and Gabi, whom I only got to see every other weekend.