If you admire yourself in the mirror, let it be in fear and not delight, because the only thing that beauty will bring to you is terror of losing it.
AMÉLIE NOTHOMB, Fear and Trembling
“Mrs. Hollis?” A light knocking on the bathroom door pulled her out of her thoughts. “If you’re ready, the judge wants to continue with the proceedings.” The hesitant voice on the other side of the door belonged to the clerk. He was only doing his job, but to Marissa it felt like she was being called back to the torture chamber. Hazarding a final look in the mirror, she tried to pinpoint what it was exactly that started the chain reaction that left her in her current state. There were the gray hairs at her temple, but she’d started covering those years ago so there was no way that Emmett knew about them. The thirty pounds that she had gained had fortunately settled on her body nicely enough that Marissa could still safely call herself fit, yet curvy. She wasn’t certain how Emmett felt about the weight, but the fact that he had stopped caressing her around her waist after her second pregnancy was not lost on her. That could have been it. Then, there were the ever present shadows under her eyes. He’d hinted several times that she looked like she needed a nap. In truth, she was worn out and she knew that it showed. Having that thrown back at her as a criticism, however, was hurtful. The knocking started again.
“Mrs. Hollis,” the clerk was more assertive this time. “The recess is over. The judge is back from chambers now and you have to return to the courtroom.” Marissa’s shoulders sagged in defeat and she closed her eyes to her reflection. Why was he calling her Mrs. Hollis? How soon did this kind of thing take effect?
“I’m just,” her voice hitched ever so slightly. “I’ll just be another moment.”
“If you aren’t able to finalize today, you’ll have to wait for another court date,” the clerk warned through the door. Emmett would be incensed by the delay. It had to be done today. Marissa pulled herself up as best she could and walked to the door – one deliberate foot in front of the other, on her way to the firing squad.
Once she was back inside the courtroom everything seemed to happen in a whirlwind. She couldn’t focus on the words anyone around her was saying. It was as though her ears had been filled with cotton. What little she was able to hear got muddled in her head; her brain felt fuzzy and confused.
“…division of communal…”
“Visitation schedules…yearly rotation..”
“…conditions of support…”
Marissa wasn’t processing any of it. When she failed to answer a direct question, her attorney would discreetly tap her hand and she would respond with either “no, Your Honor” or “yes, Judge”. The only way she knew to give a response in the affirmative or not was by the slight nod or shake of the head by the older woman at her side. With little more business to address, a few parting words and the cracking sound of the gavel were all that it took to signal the end of her marriage.
Her attorney collected various papers into a sleek-looking brief case, and turned to Marissa with a pitying look. “Good luck,” she offered half-heartedly along with a brief and uncomfortable embrace. “It isn’t so bad, though. You really did come out well in the end.” Marissa may have mumbled her thanks. If asked about it later, she wouldn’t have been able to remember. She was too busy studying the man she had called her husband, her best friend. He had risen from the table across the aisle and was securing the buttons of his suit jacket, looking neither pleased nor pained at the whole ordeal. He nodded his head simply in acknowledgement of his lawyers’ words as he adjusted his cufflinks. Nothing about his demeanor would indicate that he had forced the woman he once called the love of his life, out of it.
“Send my accountant the paperwork once you’ve changed your name,” he said, finally addressing her after what had been months of silence. “They’ll need to know what name to use to address the checks.” With that, he was gone. Her final memory of the only man she’d ever loved would be his back, ramrod straight, as he walked away from her once and for all.
Ten years earlier
Emmett Hollis was the ultimate catch. He knew it. Women knew it. Men knew it. There was no resisting him if he’d decided you were the one he wanted. There was no competing with him if you had the misfortune of wanting the same thing he did. It wasn’t so much his appearance that gave him the advantage, and he didn’t have the prestige of old money heritage. What made him so desirable was the fact that he was confident – just this side of cocky – in who he was and what he was capable of doing and getting. That basic knowledge of himself was what made him absolutely certain that he would be the one to finally get to Marissa Cady.
Of course, he hadn’t known her name at first. She was just the girl with the glasses and scarf who always had her nose in a book in the Caf. Or, he’d see her scurrying across campus, hugging her bag to her chest and eyes fixed on some unseen point ahead of her. By observing her, Emmett was able to determine that she was the type of girl he could stand to know more about. She was focused. She was intelligent. She was cute. Was she cute? In comparison to the women he’d had the pleasure of knowing before her, Marissa Cady was mildly attractive. She wouldn’t be gracing the cover of magazines, but her face and body were decent enough.
The day he approached her, she was sitting on the steps of the library scribbling madly in a notebook. Standing several steps blow her so as to put himself at eyelevel, Emmett waited patiently for that inevitable moment when she would feel his presence and look at him awestruck. Marissa continued to write. He cleared his throat and shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other. Still, she failed to notice him. To say that Emmett was unsettled with the position he was now in would have been a gross understatement. Women waited for him with bated breath, not the other way around.
“You know, it’s a shame really,” he finally said in a voice loud enough for not only her to hear but the scattered few who also sat on the steps to read or study. The sound of his voice jarred Marissa from her intense concentration. She glared at him first, over the rim of her sunglasses and then she tilted her chin to look at him fully face on.
“I’m sorry?” She raised her brow in confusion, turning her head side to side searching for the person that he was talking to – surely it wasn’t her.
“I said it’s a shame.” Now, her forehead creased as she tried to understand the meaning of his words.
“And what would that be, exactly?”
“If you ask me, it’s a waste for a pretty girl like you to have something so severe wrong with her.” Marissa dropped her chin and resumed her previous glare over her glasses. Her eyebrows shot so far up they almost joined her hairline. Emmett knew he had her.
“What makes you think there’s something wrong with me?” It was as much a question as it was a warning. He had to tread lightly or she’d likely attack him; whether it would have been verbally or physically he couldn’t tell just yet.
“I’ve been standing here in front of you for five minutes and you didn’t look up at me once. You’ve been scribbling like a mad woman. It makes me wonder if you have that writing disease.”
“I’m confused. Are you saying there’s something wrong with me because I didn’t bask in your glorious presence? Or is it because I was focused on my writing instead, which is lecture notes by the way.” By this point the sunglasses had been completely removed from her face and the notebook was closed and forgotten. She was clenching her jaw and the red flush of anger rose from her neck up to her cheeks. Emmett could only smile. If he could elicit this much emotion of her so quickly, and with such little effort, there was no telling what he’d be able to do with the right amount of time, thought and attention. Having not received a response soon enough, Marissa continued, “And just so you’re aware, hypergraphia isn’t a disease. It’s a disorder. You don’t catch it if someone who suffers from it sneezes on you.” Emmett continued to stand and watch her.
“And another thing. Why should it be shameful if I did have a disorder? People can’t control how they come into this world, and it sure as hell doesn’t help for them to be judged and degraded by some cocky, self-loving, egotistical…”
“Okay, okay. I get it. You’re absolutely right. But I had to come up with something better than ‘Hey girl,’ or ‘What’s up cutie’ if I had any chance of you having a conversation with me. Plus, now I know that you’re not only intelligent and thoughtful of others, you can definitely hold your own in an argument.” Marissa could only sit there and mentally chastise herself for falling for the now obvious ploy. Not one to readily lay down arms and call truce, she crossed her arms in front of her and stubbornly held on to her anger and irritation.
“Well you’ve had your fun, so congratulations. Can I finish copying my notes? The class starts in twenty minutes and thanks to your interruption, I’m nowhere near finished.”
“Of course, can’t have you failing class because of me. I’m Emmett by the way.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Emmett Hollis.”
Marissa lowered her eyes to his hand. With a sigh of resignation she reached out her hand to shake his. “Can I please get back to work now?”
“Tell me your name,” he declared, her hand still wrapped in his.
“Marissa,” she replied curtly. When he still hadn’t released his hold on her she added, “Marissa Cady.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Marissa Cady.”
Every day after that Emmett would stop and talk to Marissa, effectively pulling her out of her own head and forcing her to interact with the world around her. It went on like that for weeks. With time, the casual conversations on the Quad turned into sharing the occasional lunch in the student center. Lunches quickly became flirtatious texts and bedtime phone calls. In a few months’ time, Emmett and Marissa were jokingly being called ‘Em and M’ by their friends. She became more sociable and personable. He took himself less seriously and learned to enjoy things for what they were, and not what he could potentially gain from them.
Like most college sweethearts, they married soon after graduating. They had their first child almost eight months later. Emmett had been convinced that she had cheated because while the ultrasound showed her to be at least ten weeks along, Marissa was insistent that she’d only just started experiencing the usual symptoms of pregnancy. She couldn’t convince him that she hadn’t known she was pregnant on the day of the wedding. Emmett declared that no woman was going to trick him into shouldering another man’s burden and she needed to find the real father and take matters up with him. Under the weight of Emmett’s accusations, Marissa had spent the majority of the pregnancy living with her aunt and uncle. It was their first separation, and it lasted until Emile was born. The boy was the spitting image of a baby Emmett.
Separation number two occurred after Marissa accused him of cheating. After Emile, there was the addition of the girls, Madyson and Morgan. A three year old, and now twins, meant Marissa’s responsibilities as ‘Mom’ outweighed her desire to be a professional woman. Also, Emmett felt it would be better for the children to start their lives with a strong connection to home and family. Marissa thought it was more than a bit ironic, given that he’d started spending more and more time away from home and family.
“Why do you need to go to this conference,” she had demanded of him after finally reaching her breaking point. “Can’t someone else go? You just got back two weeks ago.”
“I volunteered,” he stated coolly.
“Why would you do that,” she pleaded. Her voice took on a shrill tone and was beginning to quiver with all of the emotion she had pent up inside of her. “What the hell is out there that you’d willingly leave you family repeatedly?”
“What the hell is in this house that should keep me here,” Emmett shouted. Marissa started at the uncharacteristic outburst from her husband.
“You have someone else then.” She didn’t ask it. She knew better than to do something as foolish as that. But she needed the words to be said out loud all the same.
“My flight leaves early. I’ll be staying at the company suite for the night.”
The split lasted for the better part of the year. The only time Marissa would lay eyes on her husband would be when he came to the house to spend time with Emile and the girls. He never admitted to an affair, and he never denied it. He never addressed the fact that they hadn’t had a decent, honest conversation in almost four years. He didn’t acknowledge that his decisions were taking a toll on his family. Finally, right before the holidays Marissa and the kids came home to find Emmett struggling to adjust an enormous Christmas tree in its stand. While the kids cheered excitedly at the size of the tree and how many gifts could fit under it, Emmett approached his wife who stood leery in the hallway. He pulled her to him, embracing her and placed a chaste kiss at her temple. “I’m moving back in”
If there was ever a question of whether or not she’d take him back, Emmett didn’t think it important enough to admit it. Marissa resisted at first. How could she rationalize reviving a marriage with a man who left her, twice, in the span of five years? She couldn’t; she shouldn’t. Yet she knew that there was no denying the love that she felt for him, despite the pain. So she agreed.
The ringing of her cell phone ended her torturous reminiscence of the past. Marissa found herself standing outside the courthouse. The day was bright and warm, the playful splashing of water in the fountain blended with the steady hum of car engines passing by. The chirping of birds and an echo of laughter in the distance nauseated her. It seemed cruel that the world could continue on in its normalcy. Her phone continued to ring - the caller demanding her attention.
“It’s done,” she blurted out. There was no need for pleasantries. Marissa knew it was her sister, Lorna, calling to check on her. “It’s all over.”