Unexpectedly, Milo - Matthew Dicks [131]
So I spoke to Josh at my firm and he agreed to do it for us pro bono, if that’s all right with you. Fifty-fifty for everything, and you can keep Puggles. We can talk about the details later. But I wanted to let you know that I filed the papers today. You’re going to get served by a sheriff, but it’s totally routine. I’m not looking to screw you at all, and I hope we can stay friends afterward. Our marriage might be lousy, but I always thought that our friendship was just fine. I just don’t want to wait six months to finally make a decision and then have to wait another six months for it to be official. I think it’s better that we move on as soon as we can. But I asked Josh to make sure that you get served at your apartment, because I thought that would be easier. I didn’t want some guy serving you when you’re with a client or at Andy’s house. But like I said, it’s just routine. Okay? Don’t freak out or think I’m suing you or anything. Okay? This is just how it’s done. Call me when you get this message, just so I won’t worry. Okay? Bye.
“Did your wife just ask for a divorce through voice mail?” Emma asked, handing the phone back over to Milo.
“I think so,” Milo said, staring at his sneakers. He had taken a seat on the curb beside the air pump, waiting for Emma to finish listening to the message.
“Goddamn it. That takes some serious balls. Don’t you dare erase that message, because no one’s ever going to believe it.”
Milo still couldn’t believe it himself. He didn’t know how divorces were traditionally requested by spouses, but he couldn’t believe that this life-changing moment had taken place over voice mail. For the rest of his life, whenever he thought about Christine and their divorce, his mind would return to this oil-stained slice of pavement in Virginia, to the hum of the arching, overhead lights illuminating the station and the Doppler whine of eighteen-wheelers on the interstate, and to the Honda, with its four newly inflated tires. He would think back on this moment, listening to a recording of his wife of three years as she spoke of routine warrants and fifty-fifty splits, effectively ending their relationship, as he stared at an Asian woman pump gas into her station wagon and unabashedly adjust her bra. He hadn’t expected this news to come wrapped up in a ribbon, but he never envisioned receiving it at a gas station via a recording either.
“I’m sorry, Milo. I really am.” Emma had taken a seat beside him on the curb and had wrapped her arm over his shoulder. “This kind of news is hard enough without it coming by voice mail. It’s just unbelievable.”
“Yeah. I still can’t believe it. I mean, I knew that it was going to eventually happen, and to be honest, I sort of wanted it to happen too. I think. But I never thought it would come so soon. I mean, we’ve only been in counseling for a couple weeks.”
“But it’s for the best?”
“Probably. I mean, it wasn’t great between Christine and me, but so much of my life was settled with her. We had the house, friends, the 401(k)s. I liked her parents and she tolerated my mom. We had the holiday schedules all worked out: Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve with her family and Christmas Day and Easter with mine. I just had the floors refinished last spring, and we were going to do replacement windows in July or August. I know it sounds like little stuff, but it adds up. It’s what makes a life, and it’s just hard to believe that it’s all over. I feel like I’m hitting the reset switch. Starting my life over after so much was settled.”
What Milo didn’t add was his doubt that he would ever find a woman again who would be interested in him,