Niles Crane stared at his wife in shock.
"But Maris, you can't really mean that! After all we've been through together you can't just... Yes, I know it hasn't been all roses and Valentines, but it can't end this way and... Wait! Where are you going?"
He watched in alarm as Maris picked up the two designer suitcases and headed for the door; her high heels clicking on the long marble hallway floor.
He hurried to catch up with her. "Can't we just talk this over? My... My darling, I still love you! Y-You have to believe that! I'll always love-."
The door slammed shut.
The large mansion was eerily quiet, except for the gentle ticking of the glockenspiel, an heirloom they had purchased on their honeymoon in Vienna. Apparently it didn't mean as much to her as he thought it had.
So much for romantic bliss.
She was absolutely delighted when they found it in the little shop on the corner. It was right after their incredibly romantic gondola ride and Niles was feeling quite enamored with his new wife. What better way to say I love you than with a beautiful timepiece?
Instead it sat in the cold, empty house, ticking away the minutes.
God, now what was he supposed to do?
He should have seen this coming, but denial had kicked in. Maris infuriated him time and time again, there was no refuting that.
But he was supposed to be the one who left. Not the other way around.
Frasier had told him time and time again to take the imitative and give her an ultimatum: Either change or he would be out of her life for good.
But it seemed that every time he tried to reason with her, she would say something to make him smile. Even the smallest compliment made him weak in the knees.
A glass of sherry in hand, Niles walked to the large staircase and sat down on the wooden step, his head in his hands.
So this is what it felt like to be alone.
His patients complained of being alone day after day and what did he always tell them? "It will get better" and "If you love someone set them free".
Sure it was a well-worn cliché, but it was the most comforting thing he could think of to say at the moment.
But nothing sounded comforting right now.
He took a sip of sherry, hoping it would calm his still shaking nerves, but instead it made him even jitterier. His heart was racing like a freight train that was heading for the nearest station and suddenly he began to panic.
Oh God...
What if he was having an anxiety attack?
No... This can't be happening... not now.
His hand on his heart, he stumbled into the living room and sat down on the velvet sofa. Suddenly his chest filled with the most unimaginable pain, causing him to wince.
The phone... where was the phone?
"Marta!" he yelled out, calling for his maid.
But there was only silence.
Mercifully the pain subsided, and he rose to his feet.
What in the world was that? It felt as though his heart was being squeezed in a juice maker.
He walked back over to the stairs and picked up the half-empty glass of sherry, gulping down the contents. It was only then that he noticed the long white envelope that sat on the table in the foyer, right next to the door.
With trembling hands he picked it up and tore it open, expecting to find a note written in her scratchy, barely legible handwriting.
Instead what he found caused his heart to ache once more.
The long white paper shook beneath his fingertips and his eyes filled with tears as he read the words...
Compliance for Divorce.