Zoe Rights: In One Scene

     "I can't believe you're doing this," she said.

     Looking down she rubbed at the small dark spot on the red velvet sofa she was sitting. Red velvet- Who the hell had red velvet anything anymore? It looked as though it belonged in a whorehouse. The entire room looked as though it belonged in a bordello.

     "Lo, it's not working. We aren’t working," he spoke, his back to her, staring out the window, hands in his pocket. “We don’t even connect anymore.”

      It was a beautiful day outside; the blue sky bright and crisp, not a cloud to be found. The sunlight played over the bright green lawn, awash with brown and gold fallen leaves. It seemed odd, such a cheerful day outside. For this news, it should have been storming or at the very least overcast. Was it too much to ask for a storm cloud or two?

      "But Jake, we're married," she slowly enunciated each word as though she was explaining the concept to a slow four year old. She didn’t mean to be condescending but the shock of his words was making her slow, unable to form a coherent thought.

      Even as the words left her mouth, she registered how inane they sounded. Absently she rubbed even harder at the spot on the sofa. She seemed incapable of doing anything else. With her other hand, she wrapped the soft cashmere throw tighter around her body.

    Still not looking at her, he shook his head as though denying her words, "I have to go to Spain. I'll be gone for a month. Will that give you enough time?"

    "Enough time for what?" she asked staring at his back.

    "To move," he answered.

    "So not only are you divorc..." she stopped unable to complete the word, "Breaking up with me, you're kicking me out?”

    “What’s next? Am I getting fired too?” she asked sarcastically. He didn’t respond.

     Abruptly she stopped rubbing the sofa. She'd worked a small hole in the fabric, the white stuffing pushing its way to the surface. She stared at the back of the man she'd shared a bed with for the last eight years, seven of which they'd been married.

    “Jake, answer me,” she commanded. She’s never spoken to him like this, not even once in all the time they’d been together.

    He finally turned and looked at her face, "Lo, my parents are coming back. They want their house back. They want their life back."

    Abruptly Lola stood, unable to listen anymore, to take anymore. She needed to escape.

    "Lola, we're not done. We need to finish talking about this. We have details we need to iron out.”

    She heard Jake calling after her but that didn't stop her flight down the hall. She didn't stop until she reached the safety of her room.

To Be Continued....