"Can we be civil just for tonight?"
"Yep."
"I'm so serious Ang. We need to seem like a loving, happy couple. Just for tonight."
"I heard you and I will be."
With a sigh, Angie looked out the car window and watched as they passed by the small shops and office buildings of their little town in Washington. The small pitter patter of rain drops on the car was the only sound that was comforting. NPR was on the radio talking about some business-related crap. James' favorite thing to listen to when he was driving. He hated listening to anything else in the car so he was always the driver. Angie wouldn't mind it so much if it didn't reminder her of why they were on the brink of divorce.
James pulled into a parking spot in the lot of the town's fanciest restaurant, put the car in park and turned to Angie with murder in his eyes. Angie looked back at him with a somber look in hers.
"Please don't look like that during this dinner," James said. "You are the wife of a CFO-."
"Soon to be ex-wife," Angie corrected.
"They don't need to know that," James grumbled. "For tonight, you are my wife. Look pretty and stay silent. That's all I ask."
"Yes, sir." She saluted him and quickly got out of the car before he could even think about strangling her. "I'll be that trophy wife that you always wanted me to be."
"Unbelievable." James shook his head with a sigh and followed suit; getting out of the car and making sure to lock it before catching up to his soon-to-be ex-wife.
Angie waited for him at the front doors. She reluctantly took his head in hers, put on a believable smile and allowed James to open the door for them. They have been married for five years and the only time that he ever opened the door for her was for business dinners. He never helped her with the groceries. He never helped her clean the house. He never helped her with dinner and he never held the door open for her.
"Table for two?" The hostess asked, grabbing two menus as they walked in.
"Actually, I have a reservation and I have two guests that should be arriving any moment," James corrected.
"Oh! You're the Domestica party! Yes, yes. Your guests are already here." The hostess nodded towards the back and stepped out of his way. "Right this way."
"We wouldn't be late if it wasn't for you," James hissed through clenched teeth as they made their way to the booth.
"We're not even late. Shut up," Angie responded still with that smile on her face.
"Mr. and Mrs. Domestica! It's a pleasure to see you!" One of James' business partners greeted as he extended his hand for James to shake.
"William Sure, it's a pleasure," James nodded and shook his hand, then looked toward the other man. "And it's a pleasure to see you as well, Liam Raftner."
"James," Liam nodded but did not extend his hand for a shake. "Please sit. We have a lot to discuss."
"And I sure am starving!" William beamed a laugh which everyone followed even if the laughs were faked.
'And so, the long, boring meeting begins,' Angie thought, sliding into the booth first as always. She picked up a menu and stared at the options as the three men got to work discussing finance, infrastructure, and a whole lot of other nonsense. Angie was an artist by trade. A successful one at that. She's been to galleries all around the world and has sold hundreds of her own paintings. She didn't know about any of James' business deals and what not, and she didn't care to learn. Well, not anymore.
"Ma'am?"
"Oh, what?" Angie blinked rapidly and looked up from her menu at the waiter who had been waiting patiently but now seemed to be a little annoyed.
"Drink?"
"Uh, a dark and stormy please with a twist of orange."
The waiter nodded and wrote it down. "And for your meal?"
Angie began to blink rapidly again. She quickly looked through the menu once more then closed it. "I'll have the clams."
"Thank you," The waiter nodded again, taking her menu and finally leaving the table.
James rolled his eyes at her then went back to his conversation. "As I was saying…."
Angie fingered her red, cloth napkin and watched her glass of water ripple from time to time when someone would move an arm or a leg. As they talked away, she made a list of things she needed to do in her head for tomorrow. Clean the kitchen and bathroom. Restock the bathrooms. Pay whatever bills she had left to pay. Pack away her winter clothes and take out her summer clothes. Actually, she had to get more. Online shopping was put on the very end of the list-.
"Enough business talk for now, William said, stretching his arms high up into the air. "Boring and exhausting stuff. I want to know more about you two. Are you going to have kids some day?"
The question brought Angie out of her thoughts and immediately made her cringe involuntarily. James elbowed her side quickly and she winced.
"Well-."
"Here are your drinks." The waiter had come back to save her and reward her with alcohol which she downed half of it once it was in her hands. "Your meals will be out in a few minutes." The waiter nodded and ran off to the kitchen.
"So?" William was quick to get back on topic. "Kids?"
"Angie is finally off for a little with all her art stuff, so kids will be happening soon."
Angie didn't show it. Oh no. She didn't dare show how furious she was. Why couldn't he just tell people that he was going through a divorce? Why did they have to lie to others and to themselves? It wouldn't affect his precious reputation at his job. His co-workers didn't even like her since she wasn't a house wife.
"Please excuse me," Angie interrupted the conversation. She picked up her purse and scooted towards James to hint that she wanted out. "I have to use the powder room."
James let her out of the booth and she scurried to the women's room, locking the door behind her. Angie plopped her purse down in front of the door and stared at herself in the mirror above the sink. She sneered at herself.
"Thirty years old. Been married for five years and already in the middle of a divorce."
Angie huffed and braced herself on the edge of the sink.
"Didn't love him in the first place. Shouldn't have said yes in the first place."
She looked down in the sink, then back up at her reflection and with all her strength, punched right through the mirror, making it shatter into pieces. Small shards of glass stuck out of her flesh as blood spilled from the wounds. The pain from her hand made her forget about how lost she felt. It made her forget that she hadn't felt like herself for the last few years.
Angie carefully plucked the shards from her hand and wrapped the bathroom's toilet paper around her knuckles, tying it tight at the end. She picked up her bag, unlocked the door and lifted herself up into the window sill of the only window that the bathroom had. Flinging her purse out first and letting it drop to the muddy ground below, she shimmied herself out the window next and followed suit. It was still raining hard and she was determined to walk the whole way home. She could easily call a cab, but was too stubborn to do so at the moment.
Angie weaved through the backstreets of town until she got to a part of the main street so that she wouldn't have to pass by the front of the restaurant and, take that chance of James and his business partners seeing her leave. Her makeup started to drip down her face and the make shift bandage was too water logged to even hold up anymore so it slowly started to fall apart on to the ground as she walked. The wind suddenly picked up and the clip in her hair was blown away into the unknown.
"Damn," She mumbled as she looked back over her shoulder.
When she turned back to continue forward, something caught her eye. The abandoned, white church over on the other side of the street. It certainly did not look abandoned anymore. The paint wasn't peeling. The glass windows weren't broken anymore. Instead of the cross right side up, it was upside down and shattered at the top. There was a pentagon symbol in the front of the church as well.
"When did that get there?" She asked herself, then brushed the question away and continued home.