Confrontation

The next day was a Sunday, which was perfect for Becca’s plans because Ryan never went anywhere on Sundays, preferring to remain indoors and rest. Before all these, Becca loved Sundays best among all the days of the week because she got to spend most of the mornings cuddled in Ryan’s arms and then they lazed about all day doing, swimming or sunning or any other activity that picked their fancies. However, today was not the day to dwell on all of that. Today, she was going for a battle, and she must win it no matter the cost.

She left the house around ten that morning and got to Ryan’s new house at some few minutes past eleven, using her old car, which she had had a mechanic repair. The house seemed to be even larger than the one in which they had been living before, and as Becca stared up at the imposing gates, she felt most of her earlier courage deserting her. What if Ryan refused to see her? She could not very well break down the gate and march inside the house now, could she?

A gate man, whom she had never seen before, inquired what her business at the house was, and looked her car up and down with what looked suspiciously like distaste. For the first time since she got the car, Becca felt ashamed of it, then realizing that she had nothing to be ashamed of, raised her chin in defiance. This man probably did not even have a car, but he was judging hers? Well, to hell with him. At least, she had bought the car with money she had saved up as a student and was proud of it, no matter what some rude man thought. It only needed some painting and servicing and it would be just fine. Making a mental note to take the car for servicing, she nodded coolly at the man and opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

“Good day, ma’am. Who are you looking for?” The man asked politely, and Becca wondered if she had misinterpreted his look earlier.

“Good day. I want to see Ryan. I’m his wife.”

“Oh. Well, is he expecting you?” The man asked again, his expression showing that he did not believe that she was Ryan’s wife. His gaze ran over her car again. Yeah. She had not been imagining his reaction earlier. Becca fought the urge to put him in his place. That was not what she had come here for. Before she could say anything else, another man joined him. She recognized this one from their house.

“Mrs. Ryan. Good morning.” He said respectfully, causing the other man’s jaw to drop open in surprise. Becca only barely managed the urge to smirk at him.

“Good morning, Bill. I’m here to see Ryan.”

“Oh, ma’am. I’m sorry, but is he expecting you?” The man asked awkwardly. It was clear that he was very flustered and did not know how to handle the situation. Perhaps, Ryan had ordered them not to let her in if she showed up.

“No, but you can tell him I brought his divorce papers.” She informed him.

“Okay. I’m so sorry about all this ma’am.” He said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and calling Ryan. After some back and forth conversations, the man ended the call and spoke again, looking very embarrassed.

“He said you should give them to me, ma’am.”

“Call him again and let me speak to him,” Becca replied. So the man called Ryan again and handed the phone to Becca so she could speak with him.

“I see you only respond to a firm hand and threats. What do you want?” Ryan asked.

“If you want to get the papers, you’re going to ask them to let me in this minute.”

“To do what?”

“I need to speak to you.”

“Fine. Come in, but you had better make sure you’ve signed those papers.” He finished, before hanging up the call.

Becca handed the phone back to the man, who listened to Ryan for a few moments and then scurried to open the gate for Becca to go through.

As she drove down the pathway to the house itself, she hardly paid attention to her surroundings. Tears blurred her vision at the way Ryan was treating her. Although she told herself that she wanted to save her marriage and would take whatever Ryan dished at her because she was sure that there was a very good reason for his behavior, the truth was that she was beginning to hate him for doing this to her and refusing to tell her what she had done that was so wrong. She would try this last time to change his mind, and if he still refused, then she was going to sign the divorce papers which were on the seat next to her, and move far away from here so that she will never have to set her eyes on him again. It would hurt, but she would do it.

Margie was waiting for her in front of the house when she drove up to it, wringing her hands worriedly.

“Good morning, ma’am. Please, I wanted to ask you not to let the boss know that I was the one who gave you this address.” Margie pleaded.

“Of course not, Margie. I’m not stupid, you know. I won’t tell him a thing.”

“Thank you, ma’am. The boss asked me to bring you up to him.” Margie told her, leading the way. Becca followed the middle-aged woman, her heart pounding. She was going to see Ryan in less than a few minutes. Suddenly, she was really frightened. Whatever happened within the time frame she was here would determine where she and Ryan stood. Something in her told her that.

Margie stopped in front of a heavy-looking metal door and signaled for Becca to go inside.

“He’s in there, ma’am.” She informed Becca, curtseying and then disappearing the way she had come. Becca stood in front of the door for several minutes, gathering up her courage, the divorce papers firmly held in her hands. Finally, she rapped out a series of quick knocks and at Ryan’s ‘enter’, she opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit room, which was a study of some sorts, or was going to be, from the looks of it. Boxes and boxes of books were sitting around the room, still unpacked.

Ryan was sitting in front of the fireplace, a bottle of alcohol in his hand. At her entry, he turned the chair to face her where she stood unsurely by the door. Seeing him, Becca had to stifle a gasp. He barely looked like the man she knew. His hair was a mess, and he hadn’t shaved in days from what she could see. As she drew nearer to him, she could also see that his blue eyes were bloodshot, but very alert.

“Ryan,” She called, rushing over to kneel in front of him and looking him over. “Are you alright? You look ill.”

Ryan did not say anything but kept looking at her with a measured gaze that made her feel very uncomfortable. Slowly, she let her hands drop from his face which she had been caressing when she asked him if he was ill, to her sides, and stood up from her kneeling position, suddenly remembering why she was here.

“Wow. How touching your concern is.” Ryan mocked, at last, ignoring her question.

Becca refused to let him get to her. He did not look drunk, but from the bottles that were littered about his feet, she knew that he had been drinking.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” He asked when it was clear that she did not know what to say.

“I’m your wife, Ryan. I shouldn’t have to visit you when we live in the same city.” Becca told him, wondering what was eating at him because it was quite clear that something was eating at him.

“And whose fault is that, Becca? Not to worry though, we won’t be married for much longer now.”

“It seems you’re implying that it’s my fault, but the truth is that it isn’t, at least not to my knowledge.”

“Is that so, Becca? Think very well and recollect how badly you have wronged me.” Ryan said, still staring at her with that penetrating gaze, until a horrible suspicion began to blossom in her mind. It couldn't be…could it? There was no way that Ryan could have found out about what she had done. Raising her startled gaze to his, she saw his bitter smile, and knew that he had found out at last, and that her marriage was doomed.