Title: Happily Divorcing You
Summary: (Y/N) was right.
Pairing:Not Telling
Part One
Part Two
Ivar’s morning was just as shitty as his night had been.
Getting to the restaurant to pick up Maggie and her friend Freydis was easy enough, the real problem started after Freydis had been dropped off and Margrethe was apparently drunker than she had realized.
Four minutes away from her condo Margrethe began throwing up in his passenger seat, he had tried to pull over to let her finish on the side of the road but before he could she had turned his way and…
Ivar sighed for what must have been the millionth time in the last six hours as he waited on his clothes to finish drying while Margrethe slept on her couch.
He looked at his phone and winced at the time, not that he needed to, the sun was already rising and he could hear morning birds when he had stepped out of the shower.
Ivar was exhausted, he had been celebrating a good merger deal last night, his new business partner Heahmund enjoyed drinking after signing papers. Of course Ivar didn’t get sloppy drunk, he had more sense than that, but he was ready to go to sleep when he first got home and found (Y/N) waiting for him with divorce papers in hand.
That along with the hours that passed before he picked her up from her parents’ house had sobered him up completely, but he was dead tired at this point.
At long last the dryer sung its little song and he hurriedly took his clothes and got dressed in the bathroom. He made sure to lock Maggie’s door before he got back into his still rancid smelling car.
He drove the whole way home with the windows down and trying to avoid looking at the sickness that was still in his seat and on his dashboard. When he finally made it to his own house Ivar could already feel his body sinking into his mattress.
Finally he opened the door and stepped into the peace and quiet, and that was when he knew he was finished. He could not fathom getting back into his foul smelling car again and driving the forty minutes it would take to get to Floki’s private hospital.
“We won’t.”
Ivar could remember the certainty in her tone when she said it and he remembered wanting to prove her wrong, but he had to admit defeat.
(Y/N) had been right.
In shame Ivar walked up the stairs to their bedroom and he found it empty. He paused in confusion before he remembered her saying she would sleep in the guest room, without a second thought he made his way down the hall. He needed to at least explain that they were still going to see Floki, it would just be later in the day, but to his surprise the door was locked.
Just to be sure it wasn’t his tiredness getting the best of him, Ivar tried turning the knob again but he hadn’t been mistaken.
She had locked him out.
Ivar didn’t know why but that upset him, in a deeper and darker part of his mind he knew that it hurt him too, but he wasn’t ready to admit that to himself yet. So he focused on the upset, the indignation of being locked out of any room in his house.
‘You know what (Y/N)? Fine! If you want to throw this kind of fit instead of fucking talking to me then fine! I’m going to bed, no point in wasting my time on you.’ he spat before returning to the master bedroom.
For good measure he slammed the door as hard and as loud as he could without breaking it; he hoped the sound would disturb her if she was sleeping, but he did not lock it.
Angrily he undressed and climbed into bed, but despite how tired he was, his sleep was not peaceful.
Ivar tossed and turned in his sleep; his dreams filled with images he wanted to turn away from. A giant folder that contained divorce papers, (Y/N) looking lifeless and still as she sat beside him in the car holding an empty pill bottle, her sleeping peacefully in a faceless man’s arms.
By the time he finally woke up he was soaked in sweat and practically seething with anger. He looked at the alarm clock and was unimpressed to find that it was nearly two thirty in the afternoon.
He paused for a moment to see if he could hear any sounds that told him (Y/N) was awake.
The house was dead silent.
He remembered her saying that she was going out with her family for lunch today, and Ivar was certain he wouldn’t be welcome to join.
“And my sister is taking me out clubbing.”
This time Ivar’s sigh devolved into a frustrated growl as he got out of the bed and headed into the bathroom to shower.
He tried to take comfort in being in his own bathroom and being able to finally fully wash away last night; especially after the rushed uncomfortably cold quick shower he took at Maggie’s place.
But even as the hot water washed over his stiff shoulders Ivar was restlessly wondering where (Y/N) was.
Once he was fully dressed in casual jeans Ivar grabbed his phone and found no text from his wife.
He called her number… she rejected the call.
Ivar stared at the phone in disbelief, she had never ignored his call, he couldn’t even recall ever hearing the phone ring more than once before she answered. He called four more times and got the same results each time until the fifth call was answered.
‘Fuck you Bum-In-Law! Stop calling, we're shopping and if you call again I’ll block your number in her phone. Leave us alone, sign the papers.’ (Y/S/N) hissed quietly and harshly before hanging up in his face.
This time Ivar stared at his phone like it had transformed into a bomb in his hand.
(Y/N)’s younger sister was a travel blogger and was rarely ever in the country so Ivar had only interacted with her a few times over the years, but he never expected her to talk to him that way.
She was of course not friendly with him by any means; same as her parents, but she had been cordial if not a little cold with him.
Bum-In-Law? Is that what his wife was calling him to her family?
He scoffed in outright annoyance before he finally went downstairs to make himself something to eat.
The first thing Ivar noticed when he made it to the kitchen was how clean it was. The countertop was wiped spotless, appliances in pristine condition, sink empty and dishes put away neatly in the cabinets.
Ivar took a closer look while he made himself a sandwich and discovered the sink was bone dry and no plates were in the drying rack.
She didn’t eat this morning.
How often did he see (Y/N) eating when they were home? Of course he didn’t spend his time watching her closely enough to know her food preferences, but had he ever seen her comfortably eating ever?
As he ate he sent a text to Margrethe.
Ivar: Clear my schedule for this week, no meetings, no presentations, nothing. Tell Ubbe to take care of things while I’m gone.
Maggie: Is this about (Y/N)? Do you really need a week to handle a tantrum?
Ivar read the message and his cheeks burned in embarrassment.
Ivar: I need to take her to see Floki and get this divorce nonsense out of her head. I’ll be back when I’m done, I was giving you a generous time frame.
Maggie: I just don’t think now is the time to step away from work, the Essex Project isn’t secured.
Ivar: Send the files to my personal email, no meetings Margrethe I mean it.
Maggie: Understood, and sorry about last night, the mechanic has already picked up the car and it’s being cleaned.
Ivar looked out the kitchen window and found only (Y/N)’s car in the driveway.
Just as he accepted the fact that he had no option but to wait until she came home for once (Y/N) came in alongside her younger sister. Ivar abandoned his plate and went to meet them in the living room but what he saw stunned him as he stood in the kitchen doorway. Both of them were giggling and snickering as they struggled under the weight of the shopping bags in their arms.
Ivar watched in astonishment as (Y/N), too distracted by laughing at whatever her sister had said before they came in, tripped over her own feet and stumbled.
Instinctively Ivar was about to rush to her side to see if she was hurt, but she found her balance and laughed harder.
‘You good?’ (Y/S/N) asked in amusement as they approached the stairs.
‘Gravity won’t defeat me on this day.’ (Y/N) replied dramatically.
‘Hope you feel that way six shots deep into the night. Come on this shit is heavy and we gotta get you ready.’
‘It won’t take four hours to get ready.’ his wife argued as the two sisters headed upstairs without seeming to even notice him there.
Ivar stood there listening to their sisterly banter from upstairs and came to three conclusions.
He had never heard his wife laugh or tell a joke to him, (Y/N) had never invited company to their house before, and he never took her anywhere other than work events.
Upstairs the two sisters were still audibly laughing and teasing each other joyfully. After realizing that he was quite literally eavesdropping in his own house, Ivar made his own way upstairs.
‘This is the one… I think? Do you think it looks okay, I mean?’ he heard (Y/N) ask uncertainly as he entered the guest room.
(Y/N) was standing by the open closet wearing a simple black short tube dress with a small slit at the bottom.
It did look very good on her, he couldn’t take his eyes away from her legs, the slit in the dress left just enough up the imagination to be enticing. It fit her perfectly, hugging her curves snugly and when he finally looked up past her legs he saw how well the dress showed off her breast.
‘Where do you think you are wearing that?’ Ivar asked as he took in the dress.
‘Whose sister are you talking to? Because it’s not mine, and who even asked your opinion?’ (Y/S/N) asked rudely as she stood up from her seat on the bed.
The younger woman placed herself between the married couple and faced him with an expression she must have learned from their mother.
‘Didn’t know I needed permission to speak to my wife.’
‘You don’t, but you need it to speak to my sister. Are you his wife or my sister right now (Y/N)?’
‘Womb to tomb sisters…he’s just some guy I married for some business thing.’ (Y/N) said before she turned back to the shopping bags that were covering the bed.
‘Well you heard it live, now if you don’t mind; a little privacy?’ (Y/S/N) smugly.
‘Excuse me?’ Ivar questioned.
‘You are excused, please go. We are trying to get ready and anyone who doesn’t think she’s killing it in that dress doesn’t have a valid fashion opinion.’
Ivar looked to (Y/N), who was still sorting through the bags, finally stopping when she pulled out a silver necklace.
‘Silver jewelry with a black slutty dress, and you say I have no fashion sense? Maybe you should you remind your sister that we can afford gold and custom designer, if you’re going out at least dress well.’ Ivar said spitefully.
For a second he saw her look down questioningly at herself and she picked at the hem of the dress.
‘Just this once, literally please?’ (Y/S/N) asked, her fists clenched at her sides as she looked ready to outright hit him.
(Y/N) stopped picking at the dress and wiped her palms against the fabric before she took a deep breath.
‘No…I got it this time.’ (Y/N) said, stepping forward to stand between him and her sister.
Ivar watched in awe as his wife approached him with the same fire in her eyes as her sister and mother.
‘I like this dress, I think that designer junk is too flashy, and gold is tacky. Silver is elegant and compliments the color of my oh so simple dress. And if you think it’s slutty then fine.’ (Y/N) said coldly as she continued to descend upon him.
She was getting so close and looked so angry that he found himself backing out of the room.
‘I hope the guys at the club agree with you.’ she said before slamming the door in his face.
He heard the lock click with finality.