The Day Trader Read Free Page A

don’t have to work any longer. It’s as simple as that.”
    “We can barely make ends meet as it is. From what you’ve told me, sometimes we don’t. How could we possibly survive without my salary?”
    “You let me worry about that.”
    She stares at me for a few moments, then closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Did you think I was talking about my job when I said I couldn’t do ‘this’ anymore?” she asks softly.
    “Of course.” In that awful moment I understand what she really needed to talk to me about tonight. “Wasn’t it?”
    “No.”
    “Then what did you mean?” My voice is hollow, almost inaudible.
    She covers her mouth with her hand. She says nothing, but she doesn’t have to. The look in her eyes says it all.
    The first few moments of lost love are terrible. I gaze at her helplessly, and it’s crushing to see how sorry she feels for me—pity is such a useless emotion, only making matters worse for both of us. Melanie wants to be with someone else. Over the years I’ve heard the whispers from her family and friends that I’m a disappointment to her. Now she’s finally listened to those whispers and given in to her desire to be with another. “Melanie?”
    “We don’t have any children, Augustus,” she sobs, “and so little money. It won’t be hard to split things up.”
    “It’s your boss, isn’t it?” My rage erupts. An awful, mind-numbing fury that spreads like wildfire from my brain to my eyes to my chest. I’ve tried to be understanding about the late hours, the new wardrobe full of short dresses and lacy blouses, the matchbooks from expensive Washington restaurants on her dresser, even the hang-up telephone calls I endure on weekends. Her indifference to me. But no more. “It’s Frank Taylor!” I shout. “You’re having an affair with your goddamn boss. I knew it! Taylor’s made you all kinds of ridiculous promises and you’ve decided to take a chance.”
    “This has nothing to do with Frank!” she shouts back. “It has to do with me. I need a fresh start, Augustus. I’m drowning in our life. I have to save myself. If I don’t do it now, I never will.”
    “He’s tempting you with houses, cars, and jewelry. I know it.”
    “Wouldn’t that be awful if he was?” she snaps.
    “You bi—”
    “It’s not true!” she snaps. “But do you blame me for wanting those things?”
    “Melanie, come to your senses,” I beg, swallowing my pride. “It’s going to be much better for us from now on. I promise.”
    “You’ve been saying that for eleven years. I’m not willing to wait any longer.” Tears stream down her face, but they are tears of rage, not sadness or compassion. “I’m sick and tired of being married to a man who accepts being ordinary,” she says, gesturing angrily over her shoulder at the inside of our modest home. “I want someone who needs success as much as I do.”
    “Let’s not kid ourselves. You want money. That’s all you’ve ever wanted.”
    Her eyes fill with tears again. “How can you say that to me?”
    “Because it’s true, and you know it.”
    She drops her face into her hands. “Let’s just end it,” she pleads pitifully. “Please.”
    I stare at her, wishing I could take back those words, even if they are true. “Mel, come on.”
    “I’m sorry, Augustus. I’m so sorry, but I want a divorce.”
    “This is crazy,” I say, taking her gently by the arms. “Stop it.”
    “Let me go.”
    My heart sinks as I realize that this is not a passing drama. She’s serious. “Oh, God,” I mutter, looking down. Both of Melanie’s wrists are marked by painful-looking purple bruises. “What have you done to yourself?” I murmur, looking up into her beautiful, anguished face.
    She yanks her arms from my grasp and runs away down the short hall without answering.
    “Wait, Mel. I hit it big today in the—” But the slam of our bedroom door cuts me off.
    For five minutes I stand in our foyer, unable to comprehend what has