Eric

The day Sookie told me she wanted a separation was a tough one for me. I wished I weren't across the globe and tied up for sixteen hours a day, but I was. She found a little house in Venice and wanted to buy it with the ring money and then make payments with her salary. She never used the word separation, but her meaning was perfectly clear. Why else would she want to buy herself a house?

I could see that things were already set in motion and there was little I could do about it. I didn't want to stand in the way of Sookie's happiness, but it killed me that she wanted to live apart from me. I thought of how I had ignored her and gotten drunk by the pool every night there at the end and berated myself for being such a selfish ass. I emailed back that if this is really what she wanted, to go ahead and buy the house. I told her she didn't need to make payments. We had the money to pay for the house. I suggested that she call Bobby Burnham and have him shuffle some investments around so she could get the cash. I debated for a long time before I added: Have you talked to a lawyer? I wondered how long it would be before I should expect to be served with divorce papers.

Sookie

I called Bobby Burnham and he had already heard from Eric and was working on getting the cash together for the house. I was ecstatic that Eric was so enthusiastic about my plan. Then I called the realtor and told her I'd be making an offer. Just before I hung up, I asked her if there was any reason we'd need a lawyer. I hadn't remembered using one when we bought our other two houses and wasn't sure why Eric thought we'd need one for this house, but I just wanted to double check. She confirmed that we wouldn't need one unless something went wrong, and there was not much chance of that with a cash sale.

Because we would not be in need of a mortgage, escrow could close in two weeks. I faxed all the papers to Eric and he signed them and faxed them back to escrow. For the first time in a long time, I felt optimistic about our future and had a little spring in my step. Coincidentally, the house closed on our sixth wedding anniversary. I took that as a good sign and simply emailed: Escrow closed. Happy anniversary.

Eric

I'm not sure when Sookie became so cynical, but I didn't find it one bit funny that she felt the need to rub my face in the fact that she had gained her independence from me on our anniversary. I was tempted to tell her how I felt, but I was so tired and heartbroken over the whole affair that I just didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. What did she want? For me to congratulate her?

Sookie

I was surprised and confused when Eric didn't mention our anniversary. He'd never forgotten it before, and even if he'd forgotten it this time, I had just reminded him with my own email. I thought that maybe he didn't mention it because he was going to surprise me with a flower delivery or something, but as the week went by, it was evident that he'd chosen to ignore it. That fact sat in the back of my mind, nagging until I could hardly think of much else. I thought that things between us would improve with my new plan, but I suspected that there was even more wrong with our marriage than I was aware of. It made me more determined than ever to make things right with the new house.

I moved a bedroom set from one of the guest rooms and my office furniture and a handful of other basics—a sofa from the den, a TV from another guest room, the kitchen table and chairs. Amazingly, the Brentwood house still looked perfectly reasonable with the missing furniture—well, except for a couple of empty bedrooms that no one ever went in anyway. Once Eric and I had settled into the Venice house, we'd figure out what else we needed and maybe even buy some things together for the new house. I had fantasies of the two of us bidding at an auction or shopping a flea market for used pieces that fit us and the house perfectly.

Every time I worked in the back yard, Sam would bark at me from the house next door. I'd peer over the fence and talk to him. He really was the cutest and funniest little dog. He'd run up to the fence with his ball in his mouth, wanting me to play, but I couldn't reach him to take it from him, so he'd just run around in circles with it and make me laugh. I'd missed laughing and thanked Sam every day for putting a smile on my face. I intended to invite his person over for coffee as soon as I had the house a little more together. But that never happened.

I was on my way out the front gate to take a walk on the beach one morning when I saw the animal control truck parked on the street. I asked what was going on and was told that neighbors had reported an abandoned dog. I couldn't imagine who could be so cruel until I watched the men heading into the yard next to mine. As they disappeared behind the house, I saw the eviction notice taped to the front door. I watched in horror as sweet Sam willingly went with the men. "Wait! What's going to happen to him?"

"The owner has seven days to claim him. If he isn't claimed, then he'll be available for adoption. Or if the shelter's too full, he'll be humanely euthanized. He's a cute dog—maybe he'll get lucky. It doesn't look very likely that the owner's coming for him."

As the truck drove away, I entered the gate and peered into the window of the house. It was empty. How could she just move away and leave Sam in the yard with no food or water? And why hadn't I noticed when she moved out? I guess I'd been a little lost in my own world, getting the house together and keeping up with my new job. And Sam had been sitting in his yard, hungry and alone, waiting patiently for the person who'd left him. My already tender heart felt an unwelcome jab.

Suddenly, I didn't feel like a walk on the beach anymore. Instead, I went inside and looked up which shelter Sam would be taken to. I had a new mission. First, I stopped at Petco and bought a collar and leash, some food, a bed, and some tennis balls---just the basics. Then I drove to the shelter and declared myself Sam's owner. I knew his real owner wouldn't show up, and I didn't want to take a chance of waiting a week, and then worry that Sam may be put down. I told the officer that Sam had gotten out when I accidentally left my gate open. "Do you have proof that he's your dog?"

I looked blankly at the woman for a moment and then took my phone out of my purse. I scrolled through the photos until I found the one I'd taken the first day I'd seen Sam running down the sidewalk. "Good enough."

If I'd realized what good company a dog was, I'd have gotten one years ago. I'd never had one before. Eric and I had talked about getting one at one point, but the Brentwood house was carpeted upstairs and it seemed easier to not have one and keep the carpets clean. Now that I was so in love with Sam, I couldn't imagine giving a hoot about carpets ever again. He was my buddy.

I hadn't mentioned Sam to Eric. I decided that I'd wait and explain him in person. I knew that once Eric saw him and how sweet he was that he wouldn't question my keeping him. Our emails still seemed so stifled and formal. It just seemed better to wait. But I did tell my friends about him and proudly walked him on our street. He slept on his little dog bed by my desk in the office while I worked and curled up at the foot of my bed while I slept. I couldn't have asked for a better companion. And I'd never needed one more.

I was counting the weeks before Eric was due to come home. I had settled into a fairly normal routine at the new house and still checked into the Brentwood house to make sure everything was okay there. Poor Juana only cooked for herself and Margarita, but I didn't have the heart to let her go. Those were decisions that Eric and I should make together once he got home. I still spent a fair amount of time in Brentwood visiting with Tara and some of my other friends.

Eric

I knew, of course, the day I got the email that it wasn't intended for me. The first clue was the subject line: Lunch.

Tara,

Would you mind terribly if we had lunch at the beach house today instead of in Brentwood? Sam's still adjusting to living here and I hate to leave him if I don't absolutely have to. He guilts me with those puppy dog eyes.

Call me,

Sookie

Well, they didn't waste any time. Fucking Sam Merlotte had actually moved into her new house with her? Fuck. I never saw that coming. I sat on that news for quite awhile, not really knowing what to do. For the first few days, I was just pissed. Pissed and jealous. I thought of how happy Sookie and I had been in our first house in Venice and then I replaced myself with Sam Merlotte in that picture and it was like a knife had cut my heart out. I imagined them just as happy as we had been and it made me sick.

But then as the days passed and I had more time to filter the news into my very confused brain, I thought—well, I always said that I just want her to be happy. And now she's happy. She has a chance to find what we had together but with a man that can give her children. The practical side of me knew that I had to let her go if I truly did want her to find the life she deserved.

Before that day, I had been counting the weeks until I could get home to fix our marriage, and after the email, I never wanted to go back to L.A. again.