I Like the Cut of Your Jib

I Like the Cut of Your Jib

December 23, 2024

Monica.

Her’s was a name I would always remember.

Ironically, it was that singular name I want to forget.

I met Monica just after college. I was young and foolish. She was just young. She had a way about her as if she inherited all of her life’s lessons from birth, instead of through time. Her face said 23, but her demeanor said 63. She knew what she wanted out of life and whose life would have to be sacrificed to get it.

She had that type of demeanor.

I paid for our first date. I paid for our first apartment. I paid for her car, her clothes, her jewels.

The cash was serious. My time spent was even more serious. I fell for her in every way. She “checked all of the boxes” I could list in what I wanted in a future wife.

On the day of our wedding, she checked the “I do” box.

That night, she checked the “mother to be” box.

Our children (1 girl and 1 boy) lived idyllic lives. I pampered them with whatever they wanted, just like their mother. It didn’t take long for both to realize the dynamic of our family life. It only took a few more seconds for me to realize that they realized only the financial aspect of this dynamic. As long as I could pay the bills, I had the family everyone wanted.

Then, Monica met someone who wanted her more than I.

It didn’t take her long to understand that balance ledgers with 9 zeros easily triumph over those with 7 zeros.

She filed for divorce in Dubai.

She took the kids with her to Stockholm.

I received a messenger (also a lawyer) who processed me through a series of international rules and regulations concerning how few rights I actually held in my case.

I now had 0 zeros in my ledger.

But, I had nothing left to lose.

I will be arraigned in the morning on a variety of weapons charges, crossing state lines, murder in the first degree, and kidnapping.

At least I got to see my children for their (respective) 8th and 7th birthdays. We ate Happy Meals for the first (and last time). What I saved in food, I spent in shotgun shells.

One of the best days of my life.

All for under $40.

Monica.

Her’s was a name I would always remember.

Mine was the last thing she ever remembered.