Read The Deep End for Free Online

to stay married … I just don’t know anymore. I need time to be alone, to be by myself. I’m hoping that in a few months I can see my way clear to making some concrete decisions, that maybe this separation will be good for us, that we’ll find a way to get back together.”
    “People don’t separate to get back together. They separate to get divorced.”
    “Not necessarily.”
    “Paul, don’t be naive. You’ve seen what’s happened to other people. You saw what happened to Barry and Mona Kellerman. A separation takes on a life of its own. Then you’re not only dealing with whatever problems you started out with, you’ve also got the separation to contend with. If we have problems, then you have to stay and try to work them out. You have to start talking to me, telling me what’s bothering you instead of trying to insulate me all the time. My parents did that to me, and they were wrong. Because they spent their lives trying to protect me, and then all of a sudden they were gone, and now you’re doing the same thing, and it isn’t fair.”
    “You’ll be fine,” Paul interjects quickly, feeling her growing panic transferring to him. He rushes to reassure them both. “You’re strong, stronger than you think. You’ll cope the way you always do—beautifully. In fact, you’ll probably start having the time of your life. I’ll have to wait in line …”
    Eve’s voice goes suddenly flat. “Please don’t tell me how I’ll be.”
    There is silence while each contemplates what is left to say.
    “I thought I’d find an apartment close to the office,” Paul announces as a loud argument erupts outside between two of the workers. “You and the girls will stay put, of course. I’ll continue to pay for everything. Anything that you need or want, just let me know. There won’t be any problems about money, I promise you that.”
    “Until you meet someone else,” she informs him caustically. “The world is full of women struggling with the ‘no money’ problems their ex-husbands have left them after they’ve gotten over their initial guilt.” She shakes her head. “Guilt is an amazing thing.” There is another long, uncomfortable pause while each waits for the other to speak. “Who will tell the girls?” Eve asks, hearing Robin arrive home.
    “I will,” Paul concedes.
    “When?”
    “Whenever you like.”
    “We’re doing what
you
like this afternoon,” she reminds him.
    His voice is suddenly as cold as hers. “Now, then,” he says, hearing their daughter moving around in the kitchen directly underneath them.
    “Lulu’s over at Susannah’s,” Eve tells him.
    “Would you mind calling her for me?” he asks.
    “You’re the one who wants to speak to her,” Eve replies flatly. “You call her.”
    Paul nods.
    This image remained as Joanne opened her eyes to stare into the darkness of the night-filled room.
    None of it had happened that way.
    She had said nothing. Nothing at all. She had simply sat there and listened as Paul tried to explain himself, tripping over his confusion, apologizing, trying to force some sense into his words. She hadn’t opened her mouth, hadn’t moved except to swipe at unwanted tears. She had sat immobile, unable to look into his eyes. She had made no protest, launched no soft-spoken appeal or blistering counterattack. She had simply listened, and in the end, she had phoned Lulu at Susannah’s house as Paul had requested and asked her to come home. She had remained in their room while Paul had repeated to their two children his intention to leave home, and when they had reacted later, after he had gone, their anger had been directed at her, not at the man who had left, just as she had known it would be.
    “It’s not my fault,” she had wanted to tell them, but she didn’t, feeling somehow that it was.
    Joanne pulled herself out of bed, feeling smothered by the empty space beside her. She stood by the window and stared down into her backyard, the blackness