“Max, what is this?” Tess stood at the counter, rifling through papers in a plain brown envelope. She studied one of the long sheets carefully, squinting at some of the small print.

“What does it look like?” I asked helpfully, hoping in vain to look like my attention was elsewhere. I took a sip of juice, and cleared my throat.

“Max, they look like divorce papers,” she replied, almost in wonder.

“Then that’s probably what they are,” I responded, still pretending to be distracted.

“Put the paper down, Max,” Tess quietly commanded, sliding into the chair across from mine. “Are you trying to insult my intelligence?”

“What, Tessa?” I asked, finally giving her my full attention. I pushed my paper down to the table and met her gaze. Damn, the bitch was trying again—trying to manipulate me. I pushed her out of my head and stared her down. “Insult you?” I asked innocently, biting back a laugh, repeating her own question to her like I was stupid.

“Were you even going to bother bringing this up? Or were you just waiting for me to find them?” Tess’s face was red, and I was surprised to see I’d finally got a rise out of her about *something.* I was beginning to think she was unflappable.

“It doesn’t matter,” I answered shortly, secretly feeling victorious. “You have them now.” I moved my juice glass away from me and pulled the papers to me, skimming them.

“Max, why are you trying to divorce me now? You’ve accepted our destiny,” Tess began what I knew would be another one of our glorious long discussions about fate.

“Tess, how long have we been married?”

“Almost seven years,” Tess was taken aback, and so she answered the question slowly, waiting for the fallout, I guess. I could see the fear in her eyes as I placed my hand over hers.

“I accepted what I thought was my destiny a long time ago, when I was very young and stupid, and it’s brought me nothing but misery. I married you thinking things were going to radically change—and we were going to be taken home. But it’s been almost seven years, Tess, and we haven’t produced one good thing out of this…charade of a marriage. Can you *honestly* say you’re happy? Is that the way you want to live?” I asked seriously.

“I want to live the way it is meant to be,” she replied honestly.

“We sent out that signal almost ten years ago, and I’ve seen nothing, I mean *nothing* to make me think it was anything more than a really creative light show. Do you really believe they’re coming for us, Tess?”

“I believe,” she said quietly.

“Well I don’t. I don’t think anyone is ever coming for us. And if they do, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. But I’m so sick of being unhappy. And I want a real wife, with real children,” I argued.

“I can give you children, Max,” Tess offered hopefully, light shining in her eyes. I paused for just a moment. Was it possible that maybe Tess wanted more? I pushed the thought away—if she’d wanted something else, she should have spoken up long before now.

“But you can’t make me happy—I think we’ve tried enough times to be happy already. I’m trying to be reasonable, Tess. I’m trying to give you some alimony, and I’m letting you have the house, and all I’m asking for is my half of the furniture, and my books and papers. I’m not being unfair to you,” I promised. Strangely, I didn’t feel regretful of this decision at all. Instead, I felt free. Tess isn’t interested in anything other than fulfilling her destiny, and waiting to be taken home, but I want so much more than that for myself.

“Max, you can’t leave me, you can’t deny your destiny.”

“I already have, Tessa. So you might as well sign the papers.”

“I won’t let you, Max. I won’t let you destroy what was meant to be.”

“I can get the divorce with your signature or without it. Tess, please, for once in this entire failure of a marriage, please do something for me.”

I saw the light in Tess’s eyes that had been there for less than five minutes, quickly dwindle away and burn out. She cocked her head and stared at me for a long minute. Finally, she picked up her pen and angrily scribbled her name under mine. “You’re going to be sorry, Max. When they come to get us, you’re going to be very sorry,” she promised.

Yeah, what are they going to do to me? I was the fucking leader of their planet. I smiled a more serene smile as Tess found her purse and headed towards the back door.

“Thank you, Tess.”

I’m looking through you, where did you go?
I thought I knew you, what did I know?
You don’t look different, but you have changed,
I’m looking through you, you’re not the same.
Your lips are moving, I cannot hear,
Your voice is soothing but the words aren’t clear.
You don’t sound different, I’ve learnt the game,
I’m looking through you, you’re not the same.

* * *

It’s been so long since I’ve seen Maria; I almost can’t stand it. I never thought she would mean so much to me, ever. Maria was always my best friend’s girl—my girl’s best friend. And now, she was my girl, my best friend. We could talk about anything, everything, and nothing all at once. We could spend time together and never say a word, and be as comfortable as ever before. She aroused not only sexual feelings within me, but also an emotional stirring I’ve never felt before. When I’m with Maria, I want to be a father—a father to her children. I would sacrifice anything to be with her, and I have. And now I’m about to sacrifice myself, I thought as I stood on Michael and Isabel’s front door step. If I ever thought the shit was about to hit the fan before, it didn’t hold a candle to what was about to happen tonight.

Ringing the doorbell, I waited and waited for someone to come to the door. Finally, Michael flung open the door, and in the living room, I could see Isabel consoling Tess. When she saw me, Tess grabbed her jacket, and brushed past me, hurrying out to her car.

“She hasn’t been over here crying to you, has she?” I rolled my eyes, taking off my coat.

“Well, I wouldn’t use the word cry,” Isabel retorted dryly. “But she is upset, Max. She said you filed for divorce and that you made her sign the divorce papers.”

“That’s what I’m here to talk to you about,” I sighed and sat down, and then thought better of it. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this all together,” I frowned.

“Just spill it, Max,” Michael sat down across from me looking very haggard. Isabel sighed and poured a glass of water for herself from the pitcher sitting in the center of their glass coffee table. The plate of lemons on the opposite side of the table slid over the glass tabletop of their own accord and Isabel picked the two biggest to squeeze into her water.

I sighed. “I asked Tess for a divorce because I’m sick and tired of being miserable. I want to be happy…I want to marry someone else,” I finally said.

“Who? Maxwell, this is crazy,” Michael inserted. Not as crazy as it’s about to get, buddy, I thought to myself bitterly. I wondered if I would come out with anyone on my side.

“I’ve been seeing someone for a while now, and I’ve decided that I want to marry her,” I decided this was the least aggressive approach. But Michael already knew.

His face paled. “Who?” was his quiet murmur.

“Maria,” I finally sighed. I cringed as I waited for his response.

“Holy fuck! Max!” Michael went for the first object he could find to throw. The plate of lemons smashed against the stone of the fireplace and shattered. Lemons rolled across the hardwood floor. “You son-of-a-bitch!”

I knew I deserved it. Isabel was still staring at me, shocked.

“Why, Max? Why are you doing this to me? To us? Why the fuck now?”

“I’m not doing this to anyone. I was unhappy, I met her, I started spending time with her, and now I love her,” I went through it as if it was a rational string of events.

“And how about fucking her? Are you doing that too?” he accused.

“You’re out of line,” I stood up, meeting his imposing frame.

“What, Max, did you think I was going to be happy about this?”

“You’re upsetting Isabel,” I reminded him, and together, we looked down at her, already crying.

“*You’re* upsetting Isabel!” he threw back at me.

“I love her Michael! You should be happy for us! At least she’s not alone anymore,” I argued.

“That’s priceless, Max…considering you don’t even fucking know where she is!” Michael countered angrily. Isabel left the room, and we watched her hurry up the stairs and slam the door behind her.

“Michael, what’s it going to take? Do you want her to stay single forever? If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else,” I finally said.

“I married Isabel, and you married Tess, and that’s the way it was supposed to be. I did my duty Max, and you should do yours.”

“Do you still think they’re coming for us?” I asked Michael incredulously.

“They have to come back for us, Max!” he argued.

I sighed. “I just don’t think it’s ever going to happen, Michael. All we’ve done since high school, since college, is wait for them to come. I’m ready to make more of my life.”

“You have Tess,” he retorted, more calm, but certainly not about to end this fight.

“And I hate her! Why do you think I went to Maria in the first place?” Saying her name was like re-igniting the fire.

“Probably just to fuck her, you horny bastard!”

“No, I leave that to you,” I said, immediately regretting it.

“I have *never* cheated on Isabel. I love her…and I will always love her,” he shot back.

“I know you do, Michael,” I sighed in defeat. “I’m going upstairs to check on her.”

I walked up the stairs wondering what kind of a condition I would find her in. I unlocked her bedroom door and found her sprawled, face down, on the bed.

“Max!” she was surprised when I laid a hand on her shoulder. I drew her tightly to me. “I’m so happy for you, Max.”

“Michael, you know, I just surprised him,” I began gently.

Isabel’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “Max, I think he’s…cheating on me.” Jesus Christ, where have I had this conversation before?

“He’s not,” I assured her, but I doubted I was offering much comfort.

“He’s been so…angry since we found out I was pregnant. He’s been so withdrawn…” Isabel looked straight into my eyes. “I was afraid he was still seeing her—well, someone.”

“He’ll come back around, Isabel,” I promised, rocking her in my arms. She buried her face in my chest, and let me comfort her.

* * *

I stared out the window at the waves crashing on the beach. I think everyone should have a kooky aunt who lives on the coast--someone to escape to. And for once, I’m glad my mother’s dead and doesn’t have to see me in this condition. Only two people on this Earth know my secret, and I doubt either one of them will be telling anyone anytime soon. I don’t dare to tell Aunt Louise that I am with her to avoid going home…I could end up out on my ass with literally nowhere to go.

I sat in a rocking chair in the front window of the house, and watched the dust in the sunlight float down the length of the shaft of light. It swayed and moved in the light, turning into flaxen gold like fairy dust. Sometimes I sit out on the porch on the hanging swing, breathing in the salty sea air—and giving myself one hell of a headache.

I wonder for the millionth fucking time what Max is doing. Maybe I should just get the guy a pager. I go to sleep thinking about him, I dream about him, I wake up with him, and think about him most of the day. That is, when I’m not thinking about how damn uncomfortable I am.

I wonder what’s he’s done since I’ve been gone. I wonder if Michael has driven himself crazy yet. I don’t necessarily want Max to find me now, just yet. It occurred to me several days ago that Isabel could just dream walk her way right into finding out where I was, but I wasn’t going to lose sleep over it.

Instead I spend my days feeling like a fallen angel—kicked out of the company of heaven. Kicked out of the heaven where only he and I existed, and reality was in the clouds—far away and hazy. I can’t bring myself to imagine what will happen if he doesn’t come for me, but I’m starting to think maybe I already know.