She studied him, instantly oblivious to her again as he read about himself and yesterday's news. In an odd way she was glad that he was behaving like this, poring over himself in the newspaper, for it solidified her determination and kicked up the heat of her anger a few more notches. There he sat, holding in his hands the cause for their breakup, smiling proudly at his own picture of himself and his damned machine. Should she feel any guilt or remorse for having taken a lover, for calling the lawyer yesterday to inform him that she wanted to divorce Matthew, when there he sat beaming at his engagement announcement to a stupid little computer?
Well then, let's see how he liked her newsbreak announcement. She stood up from the table walked over to where he sat, crossed her arms and waited for him to acknowledge her.
"I'm sorry," he said, folding the newspaper and tossing it to the floor, "I just wanted to see what they said locally." Rubbing his hands together, he settled back comfortably into the sofa. "Now, what was it you were saying?"
It was plain to see that he was being perfunctory, that he couldn't wait to be done with whatever it was she wanted to talk about so he could rush off to the office, where, having just flown in from New York, he'd squeeze in a few more hours of work. She pictured him on the plane, skipping the meal so he wouldn't have to sacrifice the workspace of his tray table. It was just the sort of image she needed to complete her anger and loathing.
She said, "I want a divorce." The words rolled off her tongue easily and she nearly smiled to herself. So simple. She tucked her fist in her robe pockets as he stood, hands open at his sides.
"Honey? What do you mean?"
"Shall I get you a dictionary?"
"Greta," he said cautiously, clasping his hands together. "I know I've been busy, but it's all been for this." He tapped the pile of newspapers with his foot.
"My oh my, the papers are right, you are smart. Yes, it has all been for that," she agreed, stamping her foot over the picture of his face.
"But honey," he said, wrongfully interpreting her sarcasm, "I've changed my mind. I sent a message to William before leaving New York calling the whole thing off! I don't want Wallaby and ICP to merge as we had originally planned. This way I - I mean, Wallaby - will have more power because now we're going to grow at a phenomenal rate, all because of yesterday's announcement." His eyes were shining. "The plan is off!" he said, and gripped her shoulders.