I Cancelled Our Second Wedding

Summary

During a department dinner, my wife, Delia, suddenly pulled a lighter from her pocket and handed it to the new intern, who had just fished out a cigarette.

I sat across from them, my fork frozen in midair.

We had been married for seven years. Because of her Asperger’s, she had always operated strictly on instructions, like a machine running on a fixed code.

If I didn't ask, she didn't act.

Even the last time I sliced my finger open, blood pooling on the kitchen counter, I had to physically ask her to pass me a paper towel before she would move.