The Captain's Wife

It was one in the morning when the call came. It was from the widow of my husband’s fallen partner, her voice trembling with fear. She thought she had an intruder.
My husband, Liam, who hadn’t slept in three days from a stakeout, didn't hesitate. He bolted out the door to be with her.
He didn't come back until dawn.
“It’s not easy for Hannah, being on her own,” he explained, seeing me still sitting on the couch where he’d left me. “Especially now that Mark’s gone. Every little noise must terrify her.”
When I didn’t respond, he sighed and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
“Hannah is the widow of a hero, Stella. As his captain, it’s my duty to look after her. But I promise, I’ll cut back. Don’t be upset, okay?”
I calmly removed his hand, refusing to be the understanding wife I’d always been.
“Let’s get a divorce.”

1
Liam’s cheeks were hollowed from exhaustion, his eyes a spiderweb of red veins. Even his breathing was ragged.
His hands clenched into fists, then relaxed.
He pressed himself against me again, putting on his best sad puppy eyes.
“Honey, don’t say things you don’t mean. I’ll stop going over, okay? I’ll pass the responsibility of looking after Hannah to one of the other guys on the team.”
No one would ever believe that the man who was invincible on the streets, the unshakable captain, turned into a big, gentle cat at home, purring and pleading for my affection.
It was that contrast, that hidden softness, that made me marry him, even after I knew the dangers of his job could spill over into our lives.
But now, I turned my head away and stood up, moving out of his reach.
“I’m not angry. I’m serious. You can keep looking after Hannah.”
“But we’re getting a divorce.”
Liam’s brow furrowed. He shifted uncomfortably, but when he saw the hard line of my mouth, his expression softened again.
He stayed on his knees and shuffled closer, resting his head against my chest like a big, overgrown dog.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about how you’d feel when I took this on. I already have so little time for you, and now I’m giving it to someone else. And I know how jealous you can get.”
“I made my darling wife wait up for me all night, angry and alone. I’m the worst. But I haven’t slept in four days, Stella. I’m exhausted. Let me get some rest, and I promise I’ll make it up to my jealous little firecracker tomorrow.”
He couldn't stifle a yawn, reaching for my hand to lead me to the bedroom.
Anyone hearing him would have taken his side. Here was a man so tired he could barely stand, yet he was still patiently trying to soothe his unreasonable, spoiled wife.
But I wasn't having it. I yanked my hand away, my voice firm and clear.
“I said, I want a divorce!”
Caught off guard, Liam stumbled backward, knocking over the ceramic vase we had made together on a pottery class date. It shattered on the floor.
He looked down, his eyes slowly clearing, the exhaustion momentarily burned away by shock. My repeated demands for a divorce had finally pushed him past his limit.
“I apologized. I promised I’d stay away from Hannah. Why isn’t that enough for you?”
“You’re the one who said ‘divorce’ is a word we should never use lightly. You’ve said it twice tonight. What the hell do you want, Stella?”
He even remembered that. Something I’d said offhandedly, a drunken joke from years ago.
“Liam, this isn’t about jealousy, and I don’t need you to coddle me. I want a divorce.”
“I want to be completely, permanently done with you.”
CRACK!
His fist flew past my ear and slammed into the wall behind me. My eyelashes fluttered, but I didn’t flinch.
“I’ll have a lawyer draft the papers. I won’t take a penny more than what’s mine. All you’ll have to do is sign. I’ll handle the rest.”
My final words were lost as I saw his eyes glisten with tears. He raised his hand, and I instinctively shut my eyes, but he only pressed his palm against his face, his voice thick with emotion.
“Honey, stop. Whatever it is you don’t like, I’ll change it. I’ll change anything. Just please… please don’t leave me.”
The all-powerful man, showing a raw vulnerability he saved only for me, a sight that would make anyone forgive him anything.
But I stood my ground, pushing him out of my way.
“I don’t like living in constant fear. And I don’t like you running to another woman’s house every night. Can you change that?”
Liam’s eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn’t comprehend that I—the woman who had stood by him even after a suspect’s knife had found its way into my side—was saying these words.
His face hardened. I held his gaze and finished what I had to say.
“I’ll have the papers for you to sign tomorrow.”
The silence that followed was broken by a sharp intake of breath from the guest room. My in-laws, woken by the noise, came rushing out.

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