Forevermore

Tegan writes
The Junction
Published in
15 min readDec 14, 2020
Photo by Matthew Bennett on Unsplash

She takes in the all-too-familiar scene of her husband sitting in his favourite couch, round thin-gold rimmed glasses on, reading the paper. His chest rises and falls at a slow pace. His cup of tea, now cold and forgotten, sits on the tiny coffee table. It’s a typical day, but not for much longer.

Claudine touches John’s shoulder. ‘Please put down the paper for a minute. I have something important to say.’

John grunts. Keeps reading.

Claudine removes her hand. Last touch, she thinks. ‘I’m leaving.’

No response.

‘I’m leaving you John. Today. I don’t love you anymore.’ She dabs away tears. Over four decades and this is how it ends. Not with death of body, but marriage death.

Claudine doesn’t ask for one last kiss. She can’t remember what his lips feel like. Their last kiss was twenty years ago. She doesn’t ask to make love. They haven’t seen each other naked since the conception of their fourth child, who is now a man with children of his own.

‘I’d like to take Ally with me?’ It comes out a question. Claudine wishes, not for the first time, her voice could be harsher. Unforgiving. Less amicable.

Now John locks eyes with her. ‘No.’ He returns to his paper.

‘Please.’ Her voice is small, pleading. ‘John, please.’

John lowers his paper until it rests in his lap. He does not let the paper go. He glances at his watch. As if he can’t give more than a few seconds of his time to his wife. ‘You’re not taking Ally, Claudine. She stays with me.’

Claudine hugs herself. ‘I love her.’

‘I love her, too.’

Claudine wishes John still loves her. She’s spent most of her life with this man. Now in their 70s, when they should be together, they will be apart. Claudine is scared to go, but more terrified to stay. ‘Okay.’ She gives in, grabs her bags and leaves.

As she pulls out the driveway, Claudine sees Ally’s nose peek through the fence. She barks. Claudine sobs. ‘Goodbye old girl. Take care of him for me.’

She sees him again a few weeks later by the bananas at the shops.

John stares at her, his eyes wet and wide. ‘Claudine,’ his voice is thick with emotion, ‘how are you?’

She’s confused. Not expecting him to have this reaction. She doesn’t know how to respond so she just shrugs.

John places his hand on hers, covering her wedding ring. On contact, she pulls her hand away. They stare at the ring until she pulls it off. Decades have left a thin pale mark around her finger. The ring comes off easily though and she holds it out to John.

‘No, it was yours.’ His voice breaks on was. ‘Are you going to tell me how you are?’

‘I’m fine,’ she says. ‘How are you?’

His mouth gapes. ‘You’re fine? Are you sure?’

What does he want from me? She thinks. She pulls back her hand, the ring hot in her clenched palm. ‘Yes.’ She takes some bananas, places them in her trolley, and wheels away.

John has a basket and follows close behind. Claudine sees pre-made meals in his basket and her heart sinks. ‘Do you have something more to say, John? You couldn’t look at me a few weeks ago.’

‘I didn’t know how to react. It was shocking, Deenie.’

She winces at the nickname. Hates the tug at her heart. ‘You didn’t seem shocked. You didn’t seem anything at all.’ Claudine looks around the produce section and catches a few eyes. ‘Let me shop in peace, John.’

But he won’t listen. He follows her through the shop. ‘Deenie, don’t you miss me?’

‘Please don’t call me that.’

‘What, Deenie? I’ve always called you that.’

‘Well, you can’t anymore. It’s over.’

‘How can it be over? We’ve been together longer than we’ve been apart, Dee-Claudine.’

She pauses to grab a loaf of rye. ‘It just is. You had your chance and you ignored me. You always ignored me. I deserve better.’ The ring is still in her hand. It burns.

‘Is this Helen’s doing? Did she tell you to leave me?’

Helen is Claudine’s therapist. A lovely lady ten years younger than she. They met at the hairdressers five years ago and when Helen offered her card to Claudine she didn’t take it. But a few weeks later they bumped into each other again and Claudine decided to give therapy a single shot. She hasn’t looked back. Helen did not tell her to leave him, she helped Claudine learn her worth. She is on Claudine’s side, no matter the choices she makes. ‘John, I make my own decisions.’

‘Yeah, sure you do.’ His tone implies otherwise.

‘Leave me alone.’ Claudine still needs eggs, ham and yogurt. But it’s at the other end of the shop and she can’t take much more of his presence. So instead, she heads to the checkout counters. ‘Don’t you have food to buy?’

‘Just come home, okay? Let’s talk. Properly.’

‘I can’t, John.’ She waits in the queue. ‘Please, you’re making a scene.’ She feels her palms sweat. She hates attention. The teen behind the counter asks if she’s alright. ‘Fine, love, thank you,’ she replies warmly. ‘He’s got more to buy, right, John?’

John looks from Claudine to the boy with acne and innocent eyes. ‘Claudine, just tell me why. Why are you leaving me now?’

‘John –‘

‘Please, I don’t understand. You seemed okay. Maybe you weren’t happy all the time, but who is?’ John talks on and on. An unfamiliar surge of anger starts in her belly and rolls like an angry thundercloud up her throat and out her mouth.

‘I don’t love you anymore!’

Everyone around them stares. John blinks, closes his mouth.

Claudine taps her card and gathers her grocery bags. ‘Thank you, love, have a good day.’ She speaks without looking at the poor teen. She doesn’t dare look at John again and walks as fast as her legs can carry her out the shop.

‘Claudine, wait!’

Claudine reaches her car and with a shaky hand unlocks the door and places her groceries in the back seat. As she opens the driver’s door John slams it shut.

‘I said stop!’

Claudine looks around the carpark, wonders if anyone is watching them, but John grabs her jaw and pulls her gaze back to his.

‘How could you leave me after everything I’ve done for you, Claudine? Over 40 years and you think you can just walk out on me?’

His fingers are digging in and Claudine closes her eyes at the pain.

John shakes her head. ‘Open your eyes! I’m talking to you.’

She opens her eyes. Tears fall. ‘Let me go, John.’

John dabs at a tear with his thumb. Removes his hand. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbles. ‘You just make me so mad, Claudine. I haven’t heard from you in weeks. Where are you living?’

She doesn’t want to tell him. She wants to get in her car and drive away. People walking through the carpark are definitely staring at them. ‘Please, I’ve got to go.’

A man passing by with a toddler strapped to his chest pauses. ‘Everything okay?’ The toddler is preoccupied with a toy. He rolls it around and around in his chubby little fingers.

‘We’re fine, thanks,’ John says.

The man ignores him. He’s talking to Claudine.

She takes a step away from John. ‘I’m just getting in my car.’ Her meek voice infuriates her. Why can’t she stand up to him? Why does she need a male stranger to help her get in her own car?

The man waits until Claudine starts the car and reverses out of the park, before shooting John a glare and walking on into the shop.

Later, Claudine is taking a bath when she looks down at her hands and realises the ring is not on her finger. It must have fallen out of her hand at the checkouts. Despite wanting to get rid of it a few hours earlier, she cries and feels the all-to-familiar sting of heartbreak. As she watches her tears drop into the hot bath, she feels homesick for her old life. She feels desperate to get it back, and infuriated with herself for wanting what she willingly discarded. She touches her tender jaw and sinks lower into the bath.

Six months later Claudine walks out the yoga studio and sees John. He’s across the road with a younger woman’s arm tucked under his. Claudine tries to look away but it’s too late. The image is in her mind and can’t be unseen. So, she looks again, only to catch the younger woman’s eyes. The woman taps John’s arm and he smiles when he catches sight of Claudine. They make a beeline for her.

Claudine’s friend, Nicole, leaves the studio after her. ‘Goodbye, Claudine, see you on Saturday?’

‘Um, Nicole, would you mind walking with me for a minute?’ Claudine glances over at John.

Nicole follows her gaze and shakes her head. ‘Of course, love.’ Nicole twines her arm around Claudine’s and leads her away. ‘You’re shaking, my friend, hold tight to me.’

Claudine squeezes Nicole’s hand. ‘Thank you, Nicole, thank you.’

Nicole leads them into The Corner Café. ‘Lunch is on me. Order whatever you feel like.’

Claudine looks at the menu but isn’t hungry. She feels sick. ‘I don’t think I can eat right now.’

‘The ham and cheese croissant is lovely. I’ll get one for you and you can pick at it. Drink?’

Claudine feels her face get hot. Tears are coming. ‘Chai?’

Nicole nods and leaves the table for a minute to order. While she’s gone, Claudine works hard to breathe and hold back tears. She sees John and his new partner walk past the café. When he looks inside the café, she drops her head, refuses to catch his eye again. When Nicole returns, Claudine looks outside the café. No one’s there now. Nicole hands Claudine some napkins. ‘Here you are, my sweet.’

‘Thank you, Nicole, you’re so kind.’ Claudine dabs at her face. ‘I’m a mess.’

‘Actually, we think you’re doing super well. It’s almost a relief to see you crack a little.’ When Nicole says we, Claudine knows she’s including the other ladies in the yoga class. They’re a tight-knit group of women. All married. Well, almost all. ‘Fuck him, Claudine. You’ve been far too nice during all of this. Has he got Ally?’

Claudine nods and dabs away fresh tears.

‘Well, we’ll have to get her back. He didn’t even like Ally. Remember how long it took you to convince him to get a dog?’

Claudine remembers. She pulled out all the stops. Cooked his favourite dinner, vegetarian lasagne, every week for four months. Kept the fridge stocked with beer. Most important she only brought it up once every two weeks, to remind him how important it was to her, but also to prevent him getting too cross with her. When they brought Ally home, John wouldn’t hold her or feed her or anything. It was up to Claudine to take care of Ally, and she liked it that way. Claudine felt like Ally was all hers.

Maybe that’s why John is so adamant on keeping Ally, Claudine thinks. It’s a way to keep control over me. He still has something I want.

The drinks arrive and Claudine sips her chai. Cinnamon flavours bring a small smile to her face. ‘Thank you, Nicole.’

‘That’s what friends are for. Now, how are we going to get Ally back?’

‘I don’t think we can, Nicole.’

‘Of course, we can. She’s yours.’

The food arrives and Nicole digs in, while Claudine sips her chai and takes long sighs. The chai calms her. She pulls a piece off her croissant and pops it into her mouth. It’s buttery and cheesy, with salty ham to boot. ‘Why are carbs so good?’

‘You’re asking an impossible question, Claudine. Also, it’s off-topic.’ Nicole finishes off her croissant and pushes the oily plate away. ‘We should just show up at the house and take Ally. John doesn’t own her, right?’

‘He paid for her.’

Nicole sighs, drums her fingers on the table. ‘Of course, he did.’ Her tone communicates what words do not dare. Claudine spent most of her life as an asset to her husband’s life. Much like kids, a car, house, the dog. No one was spared from John’s hierarchy of needs. ‘Do you have something he wants?’

‘No.’

‘Think about it.’

So, Claudine does think about it. She starts off with possessions, but everything she owns is her own clothes and a few photos of their kids. What else would John want from her? He has everything he needs. Except for her, of course. But she strongly doubts he needs her anymore.

‘No, nothing. Sorry Nicole.’

Nicole waves away her apology. ‘What about sex?’

‘Nicole!’

‘Well, it’s just a suggestion.’

‘He doesn’t want that from me. He has a new girlfriend who I’m sure is a lot better at it too.’

Nicole shakes her head. ‘That girl means nothing to him. He loves you, Claudine. You’re his wife.’

Claudine wants to tell her friend she can’t remember what sex feels like, let alone how to do it. But something holds her back. She wonders if it’s fear of judgement. She wonders if Nicole will blame her for her failed marriage. She feels shame and guilt. It presses down on her. She starts to sweat again and feels an urge to flee.

Claudine stands. ‘Thank you for lunch, Nicole. And the chai. You’re a good friend. I’ll talk to you later, okay?’

Nicole is surprised, but lets her go. ‘Okay, Claudine. See you on Saturday?’

‘For what?’

‘Yoga?’

‘Sure, sure. Bye.’ Claudine leaves the café.

A few weeks later Claudine leaves her therapist’s clinic and sees John resting his back against her driver’s door.

Her therapist, Helen, keeps the door open. ‘Do you want to come back inside?’

Claudine looks at John. He’s crying. ‘No, something is wrong. I’ll handle it.’ She hugs Helen. ‘See you in two weeks?’

Helen hugs Claudine again. ‘Take care of yourself, Claudine. Yep, see you in two weeks.’

Claudine waits until Helen is back inside the clinic and down the hall before she walks over to John. ‘Hello.’

‘Hi Claudine.’ He’s shaking.

‘What is wrong, John? What’s happened?’

She sees the dog collar in his hand and breaks down.

‘No.’

‘Claudine –‘

‘What happened?’

‘I came home one day and just found her on the ground-‘

‘One day? When?’

‘A couple weeks ago.’

‘And you didn’t think to tell me?’

‘Well, when I saw you outside the yoga studio you walked away. I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.’

‘Of course, I don’t want to talk to you! But I want to know if my dog has died!’

Claudine realises her breaths are short and sharp, her voice high and hands shaking. She rubs her chest. ‘Get out of my way, John.’ She pushes him aside, unlocks her car door and slips in.

John runs around the other side and gets in.

‘Get out,’ Claudine commands. She puts the key in the hole.

‘No, Claudine, you shouldn’t be driving.’

‘Get out of my fucking car, John!’

‘It’s actually my car. I paid for it.’

Claudine wishes she could inflict pain with a glare. She opens her door and walks down the street. John follows. She wants to run from him but her legs max out at a brisk walking pace. Claudine cries and laughs at the same time. She can’t believe the situation she’s in. She can’t believe what her life has become.

She stops so suddenly John bumps into her. ‘Do you want your car back then? Since you paid for it?’

‘No, I want you back Claudine.’

Their faces are close enough to kiss. Claudine pulls back and crosses her arms. ‘Why?’

‘I love you, I miss you. Don’t you miss me?’

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure. It’s over John. You need to leave me alone.’ She looks down at Ally’s dog collar, still in John’s hand. ‘Give me that.’

John holds tight, refuses to hand over the remnants of her much beloved dog.

‘You never liked the dog anyway!’

‘That’s not true!’

‘Yes, it is! I was so lonely after the kids left. You didn’t let me make any friends or volunteer or anything. To you I was your wife and belonged at home. I was an asset to you.’

‘I loved you, Claudine. I still do.’

‘Fuck that!’

They both pause. Claudine has never sworn before but the word is crisp on her tongue, definite. ‘I lost myself,’ she says with less of an edge. ‘You say you love me and miss me, well I don’t. I don’t have those feelings for you anymore. I think I haven’t for a long time now.’

John looks caught between anger and sadness. As he starts to cry, she pities him. She presses her thumb into his palm. ‘Oh John…’

‘When did you stop?’ He clears his throat. ‘Loving me, I mean. When did you stop?’

She doesn’t want to answer but she wants the collar. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Yes you do. When?’

The collar is in his clenched palm. She stares at it as she speaks. ‘It wasn’t one event. It just happened over time. We haven’t kissed or, made love, in years, John. Do you realise that?’

‘So you want sex?’

‘I want to move on. It’s too late, John. You act all sad now but you had years to show some kind of emotion. You ignored me all the time. Sometimes when I spoke,’ she chokes at the memory, ‘it was like I didn’t exist. Like my voice wasn’t worth responding to. I felt invisible.’

‘I didn’t know you felt that way.’

‘Well now you do.’ She holds out her hand. ‘Please, give me the collar.’
He hands it over. Claudine holds it close to her chest as she walks back to the car and drives away without saying goodbye. As she drives, she kisses the collar. ‘I’m sorry Ally.’

A year later Claudine is living in her own apartment overlooking the beach. She sits on the front steps with her border collie resting his head in her lap. She runs her hand down the dog’s back and scratches its ears. She sighs.
She feels a hand on her shoulder and looks up at Thomas. He hands her a steaming cup of chai. ‘Thank you,’ she says.

He rubs her back. ‘How are you feeling today?’

They share a knowing look. Claudine looks out at sea. ‘Mixed emotions if I’m honest.’

Thomas sits down and moves his hands up to rub her shoulders. ‘That’s okay.’

They sit in silence for a while, both watching the sea, both content in their own thoughts. They share looks at each other every now and then, flickers of smiles.

The postman arrives. ‘Good morning.’ He opens his bag and pulls out a letter. ‘For you, Claudine.’

She takes the letter. ‘Thank you, have a lovely day.’

He smiles. ‘You too.’

After he putt-putts away, Claudine still hasn’t opened the letter. Her tea is in one hand and the letter in the other. Thomas watches her but says nothing. She sips her tea, looks at the sea, back at the letter. Tea, sea, letter. Finally, she sets her tea down and holds the letter in both hands.

‘Here goes.’ She opens the letter and a ring slips out. Not just any ring. ‘Oh dear.’ Claudine starts to cry unlike any she has experienced before. She thought she couldn’t cry any more, but the sight of the ring brings up more heartbroken energy. She rolls the ring around in her fingers and hates herself for still feeling so sad all this time later. She looks at Thomas. ‘I’m sorry, love.’

He shakes his head. ‘Never apologise for feeling.’

She kisses him. Runs her hand down his cheek. ‘Thank you, my love.’

Thomas kisses her back, harder, and squeezes her leg. ‘I have an idea.’

‘Hm?’

‘Throw it into the sea.’

Claudine laughs. ‘Seriously?’

‘Only if you want to.’

Claudine takes the letter and ring down to the sea. Thomas remains on the step with her dog. It’s a short walk, five minutes tops, but she feels sluggish and time slows. Her mind plays flashbacks on loop. Getting married to John, the birth of her four kids, first steps, first day of school, first time one of her children brought a lover home. But more importantly, she remembers wiping up spilled cereal and milk, scrubbing the shower floor until their kid’s brown footprints disappeared, sitting on a couch reading a book and being interrupted every few minutes by one of her kids, asking if they could eat something or to manage an argument between them. It’s these mundane moments that makes each step harder to take, and tears flow harder. It’s these moments she wants to go back to. The story of her family.

Claudine’s toes touch the water. She lifts the ring to her face. ‘Why, John?’ She wants answers to questions she can’t articulate. Claudine pulls the letter out of the envelope, knowing it’s written proof of her divorce. She prepares herself by taking deep breaths and exhaling long and hard. ‘I can do this.’ She opens the letter and is surprised to see handwriting. Familiar handwriting too.

Her hands shake as she reads:

To the love of my life Claudine,
I’m writing this to you fearing it may be the last time you read my words.
Thank you for the gift of sharing your life with me. Thank you for your bravery and believing in us. Without you, our four decades of memories would never exist. Our four beautiful children would never exist.
Amongst all my pain, I feel overwhelming gratitude for you having entered my life and stayed so long. Most of all and above all else, thank you for choosing me to be your husband.
You are a kind, giving, and patient woman. You deserve to be seen, heard and valued. You deserve to be touched and given love, time and energy. You deserve everything you never got from me.
You will always have a place in my heart. You will always be my Deenie.
Yours,
John
P.S. This ring is yours. It belongs with you. Do with it what you wish.

For a few seconds Claudine does nothing. She reads the letter again. And again. Her hands shake so much it snakes up her arms and spreads throughout her chest. She holds herself and kneels in the water. The water current brushes against her hips and dampens the letter. She releases the letter, allows the water to swallow it whole. But the ring she holds tight in her hand. Not ready to let go.

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Tegan writes
The Junction

Corporate woman by day, passionate writer by night. My stories focus on trauma, relationships and dating.