Noah could not recall a time over the past few months in which he had been asked so directly -- the questions that cropped up at work were more vague and therefore easier to circumvent. How was his wife? Just fine, he was sure, and technically she was still his wife, and as for why he didn't seem himself, he was tired. Overworked. Not lying, just editing for content. And Noah did not know this girl, and somehow that made it easier, and she admittedly had not seemed to have censored himself from him.
"Well," he stalled, unsure of where to start; he was certain the telling would get easier each time, but it was not a story he had yet perfected, or even practiced. "I'm, uh... twenty-six, work about fifty hours a week, and live with my cat... " He paused, and he knew she knew there was more, so he continued.
"I, uh... got married pretty young, she left... just before Thanksgiving. Had, uh... Wild Turkey that night," he added, managing a faint smile. "The, uh... paperwork's started, not official yet... still can't agree on who gets the Lost boxed set... " he even chuckled slightly here, he had not expected his attempt at humor to alleviate the sting but was surprised to find that it somewhat did. None of it was without truth; Kathlynn's attorney was a bitter old shark of a woman and Noah was certain that it was only with her influence that Kathlynn refused to settle -- refusing to sign and subsequently returning every revision of the final decree in ominous-looking legal envelopes that Noah could not help but think sounded a bit like a cash register when opened.