Burned(5)

“A few years? I’m pretty sure I used to babysit that guy at the end of the bar,” I tell her with a roll of my eyes.
The guy in question looks over at me and raises his bottle in my direction in a silent toast. I grimace and quickly look away, bringing my beer to my lips and taking a huge swallow.
“He’s hot. Did you seriously used to babysit him? Damn,” Phina says with a low whistle.
“That’s disgusting. The last time I saw him he was ten.”
She shrugs and takes a sip of her rum and Coke. “Well, he’s definitely not ten anymore. The things you could do to him would be completely legal.”
My best friend, Seraphina Giordano, is amazing and the closest thing to a sister I’ll ever have, but the stuff that comes out of her mouth sometimes makes me question her sanity. We’ve been friends since the first day of high school. When her name was announced and a few students chuckled at the unusualness of it, she put her hands on her hips and stated, “My name means fiery one. Don’t piss me off or I’ll burn your ass.” Her little outburst earned her an afternoon in detention, but there were no more giggles during roll call. Phina oozed confidence and assertiveness and I wanted to be just like her.
She has been by my side through every one of my joys and every one of my disappointments. In the month since Jordan and I separated, she has been my rock. Instead of telling me I-told-you-so and going on about how I should have left him years ago, she stood by me in companionable silence while I worked through my emotions. After four weeks of pouring myself into my job and ignoring every single text, phone call and voice message from Jordan trying to guilt me into letting him come back home, she finally convinced me to get out of the house and take my mind off of everything.
“So, I filed for legal separation today,” I tell her as she sips her drink.
She chokes on the liquid and I pat her on the back as she sputters and tries to cough away the shock of my news. When she finally regains control of herself, she sets her glass on top of the bar and looks at me with her mouth wide open.
“I think this is the first time in all the years I’ve known you that I’ve seen you at a loss for words,” I joke.
She immediately snaps her mouth closed and shakes her head. “Sorry, I’m just trying to process what you said. Are you okay? Fuck, that’s a stupid question, of course you’re not okay.”
I shrug and start peeling the label off of my bottle of beer. “The weird thing is, I am okay. At least, I think I am. I thought I would be upset, I thought I would feel something. Sadness, regret, anything. I just feel… numb. Like it’s happening to someone else. Like I’m looking down at some other woman ending her marriage without a second thought.”
Phina reaches out and puts her hand on top of mine, halting my label-peeling process. “Hon, you gave this more than a second thought. You’ve been agonizing over this for years. You just finally got the courage to do something about it. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for not giving in to his bullshit anymore. I’m proud of you for putting yourself first for once. God knows he never did that.”
I honestly wanted to feel bad about the fact that I went to the courthouse today and filed the separation paperwork without even talking to Jordan about it. I wanted to feel some sort of remorse that they would be serving him the paperwork within twenty-four hours and he had no idea it was coming. Even after kicking him out of the house and having no contact with him for a month, he still believes this will blow over, judging from the messages he’s been leaving me. He still thinks I’m going to forgive him and this is just a temporary setback.
I don’t really care that he’s probably going to be hurt and shocked, but I am concerned about how pissed he’s going to be that I’ve done something so drastic. My worry over his reaction is the only emotion strong enough to make it past my indifference. I can already imagine the messages he’s going to leave me when he receives those papers, and it forms a thick pool of dread in my stomach. I want this to end peacefully and just move on with my life, but I have a feeling he’s not going to make it easy. Jordan was a good husband for a lot of years. He was sweet and attentive and I know he loved me, but struggling with one addiction after another has turned him into a person I don’t even recognize anymore. He’s quick to anger and even quicker to pin the blame for his life falling apart on everyone but himself. I’m not looking forward to dealing with him when he realizes I won’t be his putting up with his roller coaster of emotions anymore.