Married to His Couch, Not Me

After my husband, Adam Hargrove, custom-orders the new couch, he's completely obsessed over it. Not only does he insist on sleeping on the couch every night, but he also refuses to let me touch it.

I seriously can't take his weird obsession any longer, so I decide to bring up divorce before him at our son's party.

Everyone just stares at me in shock. Adam even responds by splashing the wine right at my face.

"What the hell are you on about, Lena? I neither cheated on you nor got in contact with any woman out there! Are you seriously divorcing me just because I sleep on the couch every night?"

I reply immediately, "That's right!"

My answer didn't waver, and that was enough to drain the color from Adam Hargrove's face.

Our son, Lucas Hargrove, burst into terrified wails. Adam's parents rushed to scoop him up and calm him down.

Adam's assistant, Claire Whitfield, stepped forward and practically screamed at me. "Lena! Do you even have a heart? Do you have any idea how much Adam has sacrificed for you and this family? Are you blind?

"What, just because he bought a couch and slept in the living room instead of sharing your bed, you're going to throw a tantrum over nothing?"

Adam's father, Gerald Hargrove, had been listening to all of this, and his face was getting redder by the second.

"So that's what this is about?" he said. "Even if Adam sleeps separately, he's doing it because your body hasn't recovered from childbirth. He's being considerate, and you can't even see that?"

Every pair of eyes in the room was locked on me, burning with the same fury, like they wanted to set me on fire. Dad stepped in quickly, already in damage-control mode.

"Lena, we've all seen how good Adam is to you. If there's a problem between you two, just talk it out. Why do you keep jumping straight to divorce?"

Mom hurried over to Adam's side, rubbing his arm, trying to soothe him. "Adam, sweetheart, don't take this to heart. She's just not thinking straight right now. You're a grown man. Don't let her get under your skin."

Then she turned to me. "Get over here and apologize to Adam so we can put this whole thing behind us."

The nurses and the patients in the next bed over were watching with their jaws on the floor. But my voice didn't soften, not even a little.

"Mom, Dad, I'm not confused, and I'm not being impulsive. I mean every word. This marriage is over."

I pulled out the divorce papers I'd already prepared and held them out to Adam, my voice cold. "Sign."

Gerald couldn't hold back any longer. He slammed his hand on the bedrail and pointed at me.

"You ungrateful woman! Adam has worked himself to the bone for years to give you a good life. Things are finally starting to look up, and you turn around and ask for a divorce?