The Divorce

“Divorce Papers” — Act I

(Kitchen. Skylar drops a folder on the table. Tense strings, no drums yet.)

SKYLAR (female):

Two phones, Walt. Two phones under anesthesia.

You mumbled numbers, mumbled Jesse’s name.

I’ve been patient, I’ve been quiet, I’ve been playin’ dumb

But something in this house is not the same.

WALTER (male):

Skyler, please—

SKYLAR (female):

Don’t you “Skyler please” me.

I found the papers. I signed my name.

This marriage — whatever this was — I’m done defending it,

I’m done pretending that you’re not to blame.

(Music tightens, minor key)

You think I don’t know a dealer when I see one?

The cash, the lies, the calls at 2 AM?

Say it. Just say it. Tell me you’re selling marijuana—

I can almost, almost live with that, but then—

WALTER (male) (cutting in, dead calm):

It’s not marijuana.

SKYLAR (female):

What?

WALTER (male):

I said it’s not marijuana, Skyler.

I wouldn’t stoop to that — some corner-boy, some petty little dealer

peddling dime bags to teenagers in a park.

I’m not that. I refuse to be that.

SKYLAR (female):

Then what are you—

WALTER (male) (orchestral hit, proud, terrible):

It’s meth, Skyler.

Crystal meth. Ninety-nine point one percent — the purest in the West.

I don’t sell it on some corner, I don’t touch the street —

I make it. I’m not a dealer.

I’m a manufacturer.

(Full stop. Silence. Then strings crash back in, dissonant.)

SKYLAR (female):

Meth.

Say that again so I know I heard you right.

You’re standing in my kitchen, in the house where my son sleeps,

Telling me you cook it like it’s some kind of delight—

WALTER (male):

Skyler—

SKYLAR (female):

No. No, don’t you “Skyler” me again.

You want to know the difference, Walt? There isn’t one.

A dealer sells the poison. You’re the one who makes the poison.

You’re not above him. You’re beneath him. You’re the source.

(Music slows, cold and clear)

SKYLAR (female) (quieter now, resolved):

Here’s how this is gonna go.

You sign these papers, you stay away,

I won’t call Hank, I won’t call the DEA,

I won’t put this on our son — not today.

But we are done, Walt.

Whatever’s left of “us” walked out the door

The moment you decided cancer meant

You got to be a monster and call it love.

(She picks up her coat. Beat.)

SKYLAR (female):

Sign the papers.

(She exits. The orchestra thins to a single sustained low string. Walt stands alone under a single light.)

WALTER (male) (quiet, to himself):

Emilio. Krazy-8. Jane and her sleep.

Told myself every time that the cost was cheap,

Told myself I’m just a man makin’ sure his kids eat

When the cancer finally comes to collect what it’s owed to keep.

So what was it worth? What’s it add up to now

If the money don’t matter and I don’t know how

To look my own wife in the eye and explain

Why her husband’s a stranger who cooks up

I didn’t do this to be feared,

Didn’t do this to be right,

Did it so when I’m six feet under

My family wouldn’t have to fight—

WALTER (male) (spoken, cold, final):

I’ll fix this.