“Excuse me?” he said to his wife. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me,” she snapped back. “I said, ‘I want a divorce.’”
“You can’t be serious,” he said. “What did I do now?”
“The very fact that you can ask that question says it all.” She was really pissed. “Did you plan anything — anything at all — for our 10th anniversary?”
“I’m working on it,” he said, a little sheepishly.
“Working on it? It’s this Sunday. Our anniversary is two days from now.”
“I know when it is, but I’ve been really busy at work.”
“You always have one excuse after another,” she said calmly. “Well, I’m tired of it. I’m tired of you taking me for granted. I’m tired of all of your lame excuses.”
“Well excuse me for working my ass off to provide a nice house for you and the kids, food for our table, clothing for the family. Excuse me for giving you nice things and trying to make your life easier.”
Now she was livid. “That’s what you think I want from you?” she asked. “Things? No, that just seems to be all that you’re capable of giving. But that’s not what I want. That’s not what I need from you.”
She turned around, her back toward him, so that he wouldn’t see the tears streaming down her cheeks. “So excuse me,” she said, still facing away from him, “but what I want, what I need, is someone who loves me, who cares about me, who wants to spend time with, and who shows me how much I mean to him.”
Then she turned around, looked deeply into his eyes, and said, “And either you won’t or you can’t. So excuse me, but I don’t want any more of your excuses. I want a divorce.”

