It was a Tuesday night when I told my wife I was leaving her.
Kelly was in the kitchen loading the dishwasher after dinner. The kids were upstairs in their beds, and I noticed the house held a kind of peaceful calm before the expected storm.
I cleared my throat as I approached the kitchen. Kelly looked up and smiled. ‘This is going to be the hardest thing I will ever do.’ I thought.
“I have something to tell you, please sit down.”
With her gentle eyes still smiling I spoke quickly, “I want a divorce. There is someone else in my life and we want to be together. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
As the carefully planned words came tumbling out of my mouth I knew they sounded cliche and cowardly – even if they felt true to me.
Kelly remained calm as hurt replaced the smile disappearing from her gentle eyes. She stayed quiet for what felt like hours, but were merely endless minutes. She spoke.
“Kevin, I know you’ve been unhappy, restless and distracted. I know you’ve been absent for months now, and I’ve missed you. All I’ve been able to think about is the first hours of our marriage almost ten years ago when you carried me across the threshold of our new home and we began life together as man and wife. Our love was sweet, our faith was strong, our hope was endless.” She paused and told me she would like some time to think before we talked about what’s next.
I slept in the den that night. I felt so free sleeping on the couch dreaming about my future and how happy I would be with Claire, the woman who was waiting for me to complete the business of divorce.
The following day I spent some time noodling around different scenarios for child custody arrangements, what I would claim when we divided the valuables, how much money would be left over after maintenance and child support.
Kelly was thinking about none of that. Her thoughts were filled with something much different.
“I want one thing from you.” She said on the third day of our separation. “Every evening for ten days I’d like you to carry me through the door like you did on our wedding night almost ten years ago.”
I said, “Kel, we can’t relive the past, it will be confusing for the kids, this is crazy.”
Kelly held firm. I had my turn to make demands, and this was hers. I agreed.
Kelly got the kids ready for bed and they put on their best pjs, wearing robes and slippers like Christmas morning. They waited excitedly on the foot of the stairs for their silly mommy and daddy to act like newlyweds.
I have to say I didn’t quite know what to make of this. These past months, I couldn’t stand to touch Kelly. We hadn’t been intimate in close to a year. But I felt a twinge when I stood on the front step and lifted my wife up. Her hand was on my back, my one arm around her waist and my other other arm holding the back of her thighs.
The kids giggled and cheered as we entered the house. I let Kelly down slowly and stole a glance when she looked away.
We all went in to the kitchen, the very same room where I gave her the news. There waiting on the counter was three mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies. Kelly and the kids sat down to enjoy the treat and I stood there like Ebenezer Scrooge watching the scene from a dark and distant place. I quietly turned, left the kitchen, went into the den and shut the door. I no longer felt the freedom I knew three nights before.
The next evening, the scene was repeated. We walked out the door, I lifted Kelly in my arms. Another twinge – greater this time, almost a longing. I took in her scent and it was familiar once more. Pleasing. Sensual. We crossed the threshold. The kids clapped. They went to the kitchen, I called out to them and said good night. I walked slowly to the den – alone again. I called Claire that night and whispered in to the phone. We had a brief conversation, but it lacked the thrill I usually felt when talking to my lover. I felt ashamed.
The third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth night, we went through the same scene. Each night my desire was more intense, and there was an increasing sense of loss. I know what you’re thinking. ‘This guy is a pig. He only wants what he doesn’t have.’ I thought it too.
I was in my office with the door closed, the blinds drawn. It was early evening of the tenth and final day of my commitment to Kelly. As you can probably guess by now, I had doubts. Serious doubts. I prayed. First, I began my prayer with a selfish ask. ‘God, give me guidance.’ It didn’t feel honest. I knew where I wanted to go. I knew what to do.
I tried something else. ‘God, forgive me – I have sinned.’
As soon as the words poured from my heart, I was flooded with relief. I began bawling like a baby. My shirt was drenched from the tears that would not stop.
It was time to make things right. I hurt Kelly and I betrayed her. I was at the wrong side of the threshold. I shouldn’t be walking out the door, away from my loving wife, instead I chose to walk in the door, back to my loving wife.
If she would still have me.
I hurried home. It came to me as I rounded the corner and drove into my garage: it was May 5, our tenth wedding anniversary. There are no coincidences.
I walked in through the kitchen and saw the nightly treat set up on the counter. This time, instead of three mugs surrounding the plate of cookies, there were four champagne flutes and a bottle of sparkly grape juice, the kind with a fancy cork top.
Kelly and the kids were upstairs getting ready for threshold time. There was lots of laughter and I could feel the excitement from where I stood at the foot of the stairs. The kids came down first. Our daughter Abigail had on her best dress with her sparkly party shoes. Adam was wearing a suit, complete with bow tie. They stood on either side of me and each took my hand. I followed their gaze as we waited for mommy who was soon within view on the second floor landing. Kelly was wearing her wedding gown.
Now, you may think this was a big gamble on Kelly’s part. But, no – it was a sure thing and she knew it. When God brought us together, we took our vows – for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do we part.
I forgot. Kelly reminded me.
With renewed love in my heart and gratitude to God for a second chance, I walked with my wise, patient, and forgiving wife out the front door, so we could cross the threshold again, fully committed, very much in love, and one in wedded bliss forever.
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