THE GIRL Karen Qiu

pencil

“I want a divorce.”

The words came as blows. He understood, but he didn’t want to believe it. It was too soon. Far too soon.

He didn’t consciously form the question, but it slipped out anyway. “Why?”

She didn’t look at him, gaze focused straight ahead. “ A lot of reasons.”

“Name one.” There he was, on the defensive again. He didn’t know if he was capable of keeping a civil tongue.

“That right there.”

She didn’t have to elaborate; he knew what she meant. His tone, the venom that was always injected into his speech.

exit ramp (II), Lana Swindle

“Who is he?”

It was an unglamorous argument, filled with shouts, insults, and declarations about their relationship in the future. Lena was angry, and Alex was vicious. His remarks were biting, designed to incapacitate more than to bruise.

“He’s just a guy at work.”

She had repeated the past statement several times, but Alex wasn’t listening. Not really. There were so many guys at work, he insisted.

He knew he was being unreasonable, but he didn’t care.

Alex blinked several times, turning his head to the window so his expression was obscured. “Say something, Alex.”

His voice was quiet, resigned. “What is there to say?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe just give us a second chance.” He couldn’t stop his voice from wandering up, a hopeful question.

“I’ve tried.”

“One more chance, then.”

She shook her head at the window in front of her. “I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because I just can’t.”

He stared out the window after that, leaning back against the seat.

Melancholy LA looked back at him.