The Forty Rules of Love (COMPLETED)

Between your fingers you hold a stone and throw it into flowing water. The effect might not be easy to

see. There will be a small ripple where the stone breaks the surface and then a splash, muffled by the rush

of the surrounding river. That's all.

Throw a stone into a lake. The effect will be not only visible but also far more lasting. The stone will

disrupt the still waters. A circle will form where the stone hit the water, and in a flash that circle will

multiply into another, then another. Before long the ripples caused by one plop will expand until they can

be felt everywhere along the mirrored surface of the water. Only when the circles reach the shore will

they stop and die out.

If a stone hits a river, the river will treat it as yet another commotion in its already tumultuous course.

Nothing unusual. Nothing unmanageable.

If a stone hits a lake, however, the lake will never be the same again.

For forty years Ella Rubinstein's life had consisted of still waters—a predictable sequence of habits,

needs, and preferences. Though it was monotonous and ordinary in many ways, she had not found it

tiresome. During the last twenty years, every wish she had, every person she befriended, and every

decision she made was filtered through her marriage. Her husband, David, was a successful dentist who

worked hard and made a lot of money. She had always known that they did not connect on any deep level,

but connecting emotionally need not be a priority on a married couple's list, she thought, especially for a

man and a woman who had been married for so long. There were more important things than passion and

love in a marriage, such as understanding, affection, compassion, and that most godlike act a person could

perform, forgiveness. Love was secondary to any of these. Unless, that is, one lived in novels or romantic

movies, where the protagonists were always larger than life and their love nothing short of legend.

Ella's children topped her list of priorities. They had a beautiful daughter in college, Jeannette, and

teenage twins, Orly and Avi. Also, they had a twelve-year-old golden retriever, Spirit, who had been

Ella's walking buddy in the mornings and her cheeriest companion ever since he'd been a puppy. Now he

was old, overweight, completely deaf, and almost blind; Spirit's time was coming, but Ella preferred to

think he would go on forever. Then again, that was how she was. She never confronted the death of

anything, be it a habit, a phase, or a marriage, even when the end stood right in front of her, plain and

inevitable.

The Rubinsteins lived in Northampton, Massachusetts, in a large Victorian house that needed some

renovation but still was splendid, with five bedrooms, three baths, shiny hardwood floors, a three-car

garage, French doors, and, best of all, an outdoor Jacuzzi. They had life insurance, car insurance,

retirement plans, college savings plans, joint bank accounts, and, in addition to the house they lived in,

two prestigious apartments: one in Boston, the other in Rhode Island. She and David had worked hard for

all this. A big, busy house with children, elegant furniture, and the wafting scent of homemade pies might

seem a cliché to some people, but to them it was the picture of an ideal life. They had built their marriage

around this shared vision and had attained most, if not all, of their dreams.

On their last Valentine's Day, her husband had given her a heart-shaped diamond pendant and a card

that read,

To my dear Ella,

A woman with a quiet manner, a generous heart, and the patience of a saint. Thank you for accepting me as I am. Thank you for being

my wife.

Yours,

David

Ella had never confessed this to David, but reading his card had felt like reading an obituary. This is what

they will write about me when I die, she had thought. And if they were sincere, they might also add this:

Building her whole life around her husband and children, Ella lacked any survival techniques to

help her cope with life's hardships on her own. She was not the type to throw caution to the wind. Even

changing her daily coffee brand was a major effort.

All of which is why no one, including Ella, could explain what was going on when she filed for

divorce in the fall of 2008 after twenty years of marriage.

But there was a reason: love.

They did not live in the same city. Not even on the same continent. The two of them were not only miles

apart but also as different as day and night. Their lifestyles were so dissimilar that it seemed impossible

for them to bear each other's presence, never mind fall in love. But it happened. And it happened fast, so

fast in fact that Ella had no time to realize what was happening and to be on guard, if one could ever be on

guard against love.

Love came to Ella as suddenly and brusquely as if a stone had been hurled from out of nowhere into the

tranquil pond of her life.