The Magical Drink

Updated: Jul 14, 2020

By Valarie Umar

The sunniest and happiest place in southern California. That was how

the marriage therapist described it to me anyway. I had only been married for


ten months, the therapist figured she knew the remedy for a case like mine and


that was a 24 hour stay at a suite. My husband Carlile, who I wished to divorce,


walked in the suite with that smirk on his face. That smirk he made when he

was impressed by something, the same smirk he made as he watched me walk


down the wedding aisle, how immature.


“This is beautiful,” Carlile said. He set his suitcase on top of a chair nearby. He


walked around the suite exploring the craftmanship of the room.

“Look at this sweetie,” he said, as he opened the door to the small balcony.


“Yes, simply fascinating,” I said.


The only thing that caught my eye was a bottle of wine left in the suite, a gift


from the marriage therapist I supposed. I didn’t hesitate to crack it open. I didn’t


want to be cooped up in this suite with a man who I wanted to divorce already. It


was that promise he made before we married… I remembered the promise, but


apparently, he did not. Carlile, he was not a bad man, he was just a dedicated


lawyer. So dedicated in fact, that as I made myself a glass of wine to drink, he


was setting up his computer near the room telephone. I sat atop one of the beds,


the sound of click clacking on a keyboard was the only background noise in the


room for several hours. I continued to take sips of my wine, rolling it around in


the glass like a tornado. I gently kicked my leg back and forth against the bed as I


watched the clock change time. I tried not to make eye contact with Carlile, not


that he would notice me looking at him anyway. I dreaded the idea of us sitting


in that room like this for the next 15 hours.


“Ah, okay finally done,” Carlile said.


He slammed his laptop closed and looked over at me. There was that smirk


again, uh. He waltzed on over to my bed and leaned in for a kiss. “How did this


happen, this suite, that bottle of wine your finishing alone,” Carlile asked. He ran


his fingers through my hair as he sat beside me staring at me as if he could see


into my conscious. Something about this drink, it was making me feel guilty as I


looked back into his eyes. I had not told him that I wanted a divorce. I figured he


was so busy being a lawyer he wouldn’t care to hear about it. I refilled my glass of


wine and twirled it around and then the room phone began to ring. As Carlile


reached to answer it he kept his eyes on me.

“Hello… yes this is Carlile…” I glared at him, as I dreadfully listened to the third


work call he’s received since we arrived at the suite. I thought back to how the


therapist described this place as happy. The only happy thing about this place


was the wine, which had finally settled in and this over whelming feeling came


over me. Enough was enough. How could he sit there and take a work call! His


work…always getting in the way and it was because he let it! He continued to


study me while on the phone and he looked at me in a way he never had before,


as if he was suddenly coming to a realization.


“Contact me tomorrow, goodbye,” Carlile said.


He hung up the phone and didn’t say anything for a moment. I watched to see


what he would do next. The room looked fuzzy and I felt funny. This drink, it


was bringing out a side of me I never experienced.


“I’ve never seen you drink before,” Carlile said.


I got up from the bed, a little wobbly but I could still manage.

“Let’s go outside,” I said.


He needed to be away from his computer, away from the phone, for two


damn minutes. I went outside on the balcony taking the bottle of wine with


me and there was that sun the therapist told me about. Carlile followed me. We


sat across from one another.


“I wish to divorce you,” I said.


I finally had said it. Carlile looked hopelessly at me and then at his wedding


band. That look of despair on my husband’s face, my dear Carlile. There was


nothing I could do but tell Carlile the truth and it was because of this wine.


“Your promise Carlile, you didn’t keep your promise!”


Carlile's mouth fell slightly open and he continued to look at his wedding band,


his eyes began to water. I never seen him cry before. He pulled me to him and


embraced me.


“Oh sweetie, why, why did you never tell me?”


It was at that moment I realized I did love this man. It was my own pride


preventing me from seeing that.

“I’ve just been so occupied with work after law school I completely forgot I


promised you a baby,” he said.


The words I have been waiting to hear and there it was, I stared at the magical


drink that saved my marriage. I picked it up and drank the last few ounces of


wine exposing a message that was hiding at the bottom of the bottle. I read it


aloud, “Being vulnerable in love, is the purest love of all.”


As I sat there across Carlile he looked at me with that smirk on his face.


I smiled and placed my hand on him.


“My dear Carlile,” I said.



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