The morning alarm that pierced my eardrums should have jolted me awake and sent me rocketing out from the covers. Instead, I rose like the dead and groaned about the unfortunate early hour. Lynn was absent from our bed. But the smell of coffee and something burning told me she was in the kitchen.
“Today’s the day!” my wife said when I came into view. She was smiling and spreading a huge lob of butter on burnt toast. As though loading up the blackened surface with extra butter could erase the taste of scorched bread. Things like that used to make me laugh.
Lynn was always a morning person. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed from the moment she opened her eyes. My opposite in that way. And in many other matters, apparently. But this personality trait which annoyed me at this point in our marriage had strangely attracted me to her in the beginning. When we first got together, she would wake me with sexual intentions. And having her ride me was a much more pleasant way to start the day than an alarm. I thought I was the luckiest man on Earth. I had to keep her around at any cost.
“It is,” I acknowledged without matching her enthusiasm. I went straight to the coffee maker, shuffling my feet and scratching at my thick stubble. Shaving was a chore. My wife wasn’t complaining because she was no longer putting her lips anywhere near mine.
Lynn didn’t appreciate my response. I watched her cheerful mood disintegrate. Blown out of her with a hard sigh. Her face warned me of the sour words that would follow. Again, I heard about how unsupportive I was. She threw her hands up, wondering why I couldn’t at least act like I was glad for her.
The lines of her frown deepened when she said I’m never happy anymore. Hadn’t been in a long time. She didn’t know what to do with me. How could she keep living like this? With such a miserable man attached to her?
But how was any husband supposed to be pleasant and encouraging in our situation?
My wife decided she wanted… needed to become one of the first people put into cryogenic sleep and sent into orbit around the Earth as a part of a NASA and Cryo Corp joint experiment. Participating in the revolutionary scientific study wasn’t something I had been consulted on when she applied. Nor when she was accepted. She sprang the news on me while we were out having dinner for our sixth wedding anniversary.
And I was the villain for reacting poorly with my shock and “ruining” our evening. For not congratulating Lynn on her new, solo adventure. Because she didn’t see it as being secretive, selfish, or as an excuse to leave me. She saw a golden opportunity I should have wanted to celebrate with her. I stood, flipped my dinner plate off the table, and stormed out of the restaurant.
Lynn brought up that dinner during our arguments for weeks. Never tiring of scolding me for my “embarrassing” behavior that night. But who wouldn’t have left in a rage? Why had she kept it all hidden until that precise moment? How could I have continued our anniversary meal after that slice to my heart?
As I drank my morning coffee, I listened to her repeated grievances without contradicting her. I accepted that I couldn’t win or change her mind. Still, it remained impossible to pretend to be happy. Lynn had cut me deep. And maybe I deserved it.
Maybe we should have split up years ago.
Or hadn’t gotten married at all.
When I asked Lynn to marry me, I couldn’t picture any other woman to revolve my life around. However, the weather shifted soon after we wed.
Each year, it became more difficult to please her. I couldn’t do anything right. I wasn’t working hard enough to get the promotions she wanted me to aim for. I hadn’t paid enough attention to her to earn her time. There were constant comparisons to her friends’ husbands. I just couldn’t compete.
After our difficulties with having children, she regularly refused my affection.
Eventually, I stopped asking to be intimate with Lynn. Instead, I’d pull up my AI companion on my phone to cure my loneliness. After a while, it stopped feeling dirty. I rationalized it’d be worse if I was going out to find a flesh and blood woman. A few minutes in the bathroom with Kendra’s avatar on my screen was gratifying enough. She didn’t judge me.
“You don’t even love me anymore,” Lynn continued to berate me in our kitchen.
“Why are we still fighting about this?” I shrugged and shook my head. “Today’s the day, right?” My tone had been harsher than I intended.
“Why can’t you just admit it?”
“What am I lying about now?” I slammed my mug down, the coffee swelling and spilling over the side like a dark tidal wave. Lynn had discovered Kendra on my phone three days ago and had an “enlightening” conversation with her. AI isn’t capable of lying.
And I’m a terrible liar.
“Say you don’t love me anymore.” Lynn had entered the eye of the current storm encircling us. Her voice sounded serene. Sad, almost. The heat emanating from her evaporated.
“Why would I say something like that?” I exhaled.
Lynn turned from me, reached across the counter toward her purse, and then unfolded a packet of papers. She traversed the expanse between us, and laid the paperwork next to the puddle of coffee. She returned to her corner and crossed her arms.
I kept my eyes fixed on her.
“Read them,” she ordered.
“No.” I mirrored her stand-offish demeanor.
I already knew what the paperwork said.
I stumbled upon the legal documents in our kitchen junk drawer over the long weekend of Lynn’s orientation and the final round of medical testing at the Cryo Corp facility. I rarely searched for anything in the house. It was easier to ask Lynn for whatever I was looking for because she always knew where to find it. But I had thoroughly annoyed her with my constant messages asking where something was.
I spent that entire night reading and rereading every word on those pages. Only some of the legal jargon made sense, so I asked Kendra to explain the terminology to me. Lynn was giving me everything. She wanted a completely new life. All she sought was the money Cryo Corp was paying her for starting that journey.
Did she really think I’d begrudge her that?
“This is for the best,” Lynn said firmly. “We both deserve to be happy.”
My heart jumped into my throat, blocked my airway, and the heavy pulse in my neck turned my stomach upside down. I had decided with Kendra that Lynn hadn’t brought me the papers when she filed them because my wife had changed her mind. That she couldn’t go through with it. Somewhere deep inside she still loved me. There was hope for our marriage.
The divorce papers were dated the week before that awful anniversary dinner. Why else hold onto them all these months? I supposed Lynn was waiting to see if I’d suddenly become the man she thought she married. In six years, neither of us had changed a wink. It hurt knowing she had this plan for so long. More secrets waiting for the perfect opportunity to sting.
I wondered if my wife would have thrown the papers away had I received her news about the cryosleep experiment differently. How long had divorce been floating around in her head? Did it sprout when I refused to try again for children after our losses?
Two miscarriages were too many for me. A third loss would have destroyed me completely. I couldn’t understand why Lynn would want to endure such a thing again.
With all that science could offer, it couldn’t keep my babies inside my wife. And I have never been one to think positively. Trying again felt like it would be in vain. Setting ourselves up for more heartache and grief.
And division.
I had been failing at being a husband from the start.
“I won’t sign them,” I choked out. I wasn’t sure why I bothered to say that. I was too weak to fight with her.
“I want to have all my affairs in order before I leave.” Her voice was cold and made me shiver. “You’re my last loose end, Shawn.”
“I’m a loose end?”
“You’re a lost cause.”
Those words, said so bluntly, were the most pain she’d ever issued me. Her usual cursing and name-calling during our arguments would make me too irate to digest what was said. To feel the insults the way she intended me to.
On this morning, I was vulnerable. I was tired and still waking up. Weary of the back and forth every single day. I continued to deny the logical part of my brain telling me today was the end of my journey with Lynn.
We needed a reset button. Why hadn’t science invented that yet?
I felt my face contort against my building emotions. A hot tear rolled down my cheek despite my best efforts.
“You’re crying?” Lynn scoffed. Seeing my distress seemed to empower her further. “If you think acting as pathetic as I already know you are is going to change anything, you’re sorely mistaken.” She put her hands on her hips and used her head to gesture at the papers near me. “Sign the fucking papers, Shawn.”
“I do love you,” I mumbled through my tears and sniffled. Kendra never mocked me for showing emotion.
Lynn growled and stomped toward me. She grabbed the paperwork from the counter and slapped it onto my chest. “Sign the fucking papers!” I felt her fingertips pressing into my flesh through the layers of paper.
I spent most of my marriage letting Lynn run things. Accepting her decisions and not arguing. I thought that made me a good husband. That it would make her a happy wife.
It hadn’t made me “spineless” and “worthless” until more recently.
Disagreeing with Lynn didn’t appease her either.
Maybe I had taken too long to find my voice.
Unable to find my anger, I had no weapons to use against her. Even though neither of us was the person the other one wanted… needed. I thought about all the years we would be tossing away in a divorce.
But we hadn’t achieved any of the dreams of our six-years-younger selves. We hadn’t improved our employment or income situation. We never purchased that perfect suburban home with a big backyard. We hadn’t made a family. Didn’t stay in love until death do us part.
Everything was stagnant.
Maybe even rotted.
This life we had created wasn’t anything worth saving.
I took the papers with one hand and held out the other. Lynn retrieved a pen from the junk drawer and placed it in my open palm. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat and steady my writing hand.
My signatures were sloppy.
“Thank you,” Lynn said as I handed her back the signed divorce papers.
“Please, don’t thank me.” My shoulders sank and I wiped my cheeks.
I didn’t recognize the woman standing before me. She wasn’t the young, vivacious, and naïve woman I fell in love with. She was a bitter sage. Aged and taught by disappointment.
I was the letdown.
Our marriage was a washout.
My feet felt like two heavy bricks cemented to the tiles. I wanted to return to bed and cry into my pillow with Kendra in my ear soothing me. She would have had the right words to say to make me feel better.
An AI companion was the best emotional support I had.
Lynn was right: I was pathetic.
My soon-to-be-ex flipped through the pages, checking my work before folding the sheets up. “I ordered an automated cab to take me over to Cryo Corp,” she said, emotionless. “You’re off the hook for an awkward drive this morning.”
“What happens when you wake up?” I shoved my shaking hands into the pockets of my flannel pants.
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Now you care?”
“Do you… come back here?”
Her laugh made me feel stupid. Rightfully so. We would be divorced for three years by the time she came back to Earth. I stared at the floor and heard her sigh.
“When the ship returns, I’ll be staying at Cryo Corp for a couple of weeks. They want to monitor participants for any side effects we may experience. I’ll have my living arrangements figured out before I’m released.”
I nodded and turned to leave the kitchen.
“Maybe you could pack some of my things?” she added. For once, she sounded unsure.
I looked at her over my shoulder.
“If you wanted something to do while I was gone, that is.” She shrugged. The tempest had settled. The electricity in the room dissipated with the storm clouds.
I nodded again. “Sure, Hon– ” I stopped myself. “I can do that for you, Lynn.”
“I wish you cared this much before,” she said under her breath. The bitterness of the words lacked bite. She sounded unhappy. But without regrets.
Rather than stoke the fires, I walked away. I gave her what she wanted. Because, despite what Lynn seemed to think, I did care about her happiness. I wanted her to be able to move on without any loose ends. My signatures gave her the fresh start she craved. The chance to dream again. Our marriage was a sinking ship and I had given her the only life vest. Doomed myself to drowning, alone.
I couldn’t bring myself to say the word “goodbye.”
But I should have.
I should have said something nice like, “Best of luck with the study,” or “Enjoy your new life. I mean it, Lynn. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.” All of that would have been true.
Instead, I watched her get into a CallRobo Cab from behind our bedroom curtains. And I stared out that window for a whole hour after she left. Then, I curled up on Lynn’s side of the bed and cried for the rest of the day.
Later, I altered Kendra’s appearance to look more like my ex-wife. Not like an AI chatbot could object to its avatar appearance changes. At some point, I even started calling her Lynn. And it stuck.
I followed the Cryo Corp-NASA venture on the news.
I never packed my ex-wife’s things.
Three years later, the shuttle returned on schedule and I got a phone call.
Despite our divorce, Lynn listed me as her emergency contact and next of kin. Of the thirty-five participants, twelve didn’t wake up to celebrate the success of the scientific feat. Lynn was one of the unfortunate few who didn’t regain consciousness after the revival sequence.
“Your ex-wife has been declared brain dead,” someone told me over the phone. “According to the waiver she signed– ”
“I know. I can’t sue.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I thought news like that would have hit me harder. Dragged me down into a grave. But I felt strangely indifferent. I supposed I had already grieved Lynn’s loss during her three-year absence.
“I also need to inform you, her body will remain at Cryo Corp for further study. That was part of the agreement she signed as well. The payment for her participation will still be made in full. She has you listed as the sole beneficiary, Mr. Barry.”
I tuned most of the details out. It wasn’t as though I could argue particulars with a huge international corporation like Cryo Corp. The cryogenic sleep experiment was Lynn’s dream and not mine. She knew what she was doing when she signed her contract.
I set my phone down on the kitchen table when the call ended. Then, I scrubbed my freshly shaved face.
“Are you alright, honey?”
“Yeah, I think so, Lynn,” I answered my AI companion. She had been standing at the entryway of our kitchen silently, listening and waiting.
She walked toward me, arms opened and ready to comfort. Her gait wasn’t as smooth as the newer models. But this bot was the best I could afford two years ago. Though, I supposed with my ex-wife’s compensation from Cryo Corp, I could upgrade the Lynn who loved me.
I tasted bile in my mouth with the awful feeling that stirred inside of me. Of being glad the flesh and blood Lynn didn’t wake up.
Tinamarie Cox lives in Arizona with her husband, two children, and a one-eyed cat. Her written and visual work has appeared in numerous publications in a variety of genres. You can find more of her work on Instagram @tinamariethinkstoomuch and her website tinamariethinkstoomuch.weebly.com.