I don’t want a divorce, but playing devil’s advocate*, maybe it’s for the best.  For one, I’m still relatively young and I have time and energy to find someone who is more suitable for me.  Emily is old enough now to handle this and if we ended our marriage even two years ago, she may not have been able to handle it.  I saw what a divorce did to you as a young child and I’m glad Emily didn’t have to deal with it at a younger age.  Small victories.  Also, if we waited any longer, I would get more resentful and Danielle would continue to be unhappy.  Imagine when Emily leaves the home and it’s just Danielle and I in the house.  It would be horrible to not have Emily there to buffer us or to bring us joy.  I realize it’s not her job to do this, but she inherently has this gift to make us happy.  It would be extremely depressing without her in the house.  We can still be a pseudo family and I can still cook for them, use the pool, and still have a home and enough money to move forward.  After all this time, you still don’t know what you want.  You’re not straight and you don’t like men, but you’re not sure what you are or what you’re looking for yet.  I wish you the best and I want you to find what you’re looking for.  But because this chapter is called “For the Best”, I don’t have to worry about it anymore.  I can let go of the need to try to help you.   This is your deal now and my support as a friend are there, but as a husband, it’s no longer there.  I don’t have to deal with your aging mother.  I don’t have to deal with your emotionally imbalanced family.  I just have to worry about Emily, myself, and the cats.

*Brought into English in the 18th century from the medieval Latin expression ‘advocatus diaboli’. To describe someone as a Devil’s advocate now is to suggest that they are mischievous and contradictory, being contrary for the sake of it. In medieval Europe, Devil’s advocate wasn’t seen so negatively; it was, like ‘chamberlain’ or ‘cordwainer’, a job title.