Mrs. Miracle Page 0,52

constant tension, with this continual battle of wills? We're both miserable, and I can see no reason to continue with this farce of a marriage."

He blinked as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Sharon realized her words had been abrupt and harsh. "You don't know how much this saddens me, Jerry," she whispered, lowering her gaze to her clenched hands. "It isn't that I blame you or even myself, but we aren't the same people we used to be. Things change. People change."

"If this has to do with my having lunch with Maggie..."

"It doesn't," she assured him, realizing he was looking for something to pinpoint.

"That's not it?" He furrowed his brow. "But I thought, I mean, I realize it must have been a shock..."

"We haven't made love in months." She laughed shortly, a bit hysterically. "We don't even sleep together any longer. You cook your meals, I cook mine." As far as she could see, it was only a matter of time before he reached the same conclusion. "We seem to be constantly at odds. It isn't that you've done anything wrong, or that I haven't been a good wife."

"You want this, Sharon?"

She didn't. Had never dreamed that this calamity would befall them. She'd assumed their marriage was safe. They'd lived, loved, and grieved together, but somewhere along the way they'd stopped trying, stopped communicating. He had an entire life that had nothing to do with her, and the same applied to her.

That this would happen to them now was one of life's cruel jokes; only she wasn't laughing, and neither was Jerry. She hadn't reached the decision lightly. This was quite possibly the most difficult thing she'd ever done, with the exception of burying her daughter.

"I know you've tried to make this work," she said, avoiding his question. "So have I."

"Is a divorce what you want?" he asked again, a bit louder.

She remembered the way her heart had leapt when she saw that he'd come for her, and she buried that small shred of joy in the deepest part of her soul.

"Do you?" he pressed, his gaze holding hers.

"Yes," she whispered brokenly.

Jerry sagged against the back of the chair. "I never thought this would happen to us."

"Me either," she admitted sadly.

"Do you have an attorney yet?"

She shook her head. "I want this to be as amicable as possible."

He nodded. "It'll take work on both our parts."

It hurt that he was so damned agreeable. While it was true she was the one who'd asked for the divorce, she'd hoped he'd fight to save their marriage. Her pride would have preferred for him to put up some resistance, even if it was only token. After a forty-year investment one would think he'd want to try harder.

At first she'd prayed he wouldn't. It would be easier on both of them if he accepted her decision calmly. The reality of that was quite different. Sharon was grateful she was seated. His fine-if-this-is-what-you-want attitude left her feeling as if the rug had been pulled out from under her. Her emotions spiraled downward, crashing, taking what remained of her pride.

"We had some good years." If he wouldn't mention those, she would.

"Some great years and some not so great."

She wondered if he was remembering the year Pamela had died, or if his mind was dwelling on the last twelve months, when they didn't seem to have anything in common any longer.

"Do you want to break the news to the kids now?" Jerry asked.

He made it sound as though they should run to the phone and call their sons and announce it with great ceremony. Sharon dreaded telling her sons more than she did Jerry. They were both responsible adults, but it would hit them hard, rock their foundation, and she'd have liked to spare them that.

"I'd prefer to wait until after Christmas," she said, hoping he was agreeable to that. She could see no reason to ruin everyone else's holiday.

He nodded. "All right, if that's what you want."

After weeks of not having a civil word to say to her, he'd become amicable overnight. She bit her tongue to keep from saying so.

"It's going to come as something of a shock to Clay and Neal," her husband murmured, saying what she'd been thinking moments earlier.

Although she'd been the one to request the divorce, it came as a shock to her as well.

A terrible sadness settled over her. The last time she'd experienced anything this heavy, this debilitating, had been shortly after the news of Pamela's car