Work Text:
Brudisium, 47 BC
Divorce.
Cicero tastes the word on his tongue.
Divorce. After more than thirty years of marriage.
How has it come to that, he wonders.
There used to be a time when they were such a good team.
Even though he certainly did not marry Terentia for love – mostly for her money, her family name and her connections if he is honest – he had come to love her over the years.
A team. He profited from her money, more than he usually admits to others. She profited from his fame, his successful career.
And now it will all be over.
They have both grown old together. Cicero is almost sixty, Terentia fifty. But now it seems that he has to go through the last chapter of his life on his own.
Of course they have already spent many years apart.
During his exile at first, the turning point in his career and in retrospect perhaps also the beginning of the end of his marriage.
But back then, even though they were separated by hundreds of miles, he still knew he could rely on her. And Terentia was supportive as can be.
It was when he returned to Rome that he saw how much his exile had worn her down.
Then his unwelcome governorship in Cilicia – where Terentia was not allowed to accompany him. Instead, she stayed in Rome and helped Tullia find her third husband. Publius Cornelius Dolabella. Young, charming – and by far the least suitable of his three son-in-laws in his opinion. Also a loyal follower of Caesar.
The women decided the matter without ever consulting him.
Then the Civil War. He knew that Terentia was frustrated by his long months of hesitation, his inability to pick a side. And when he finally did, it turned out to be the wrong one.
Now, Pompey is dead. Brutally murdered in Egypt. And Cicero no longer believes in his fight – if he ever did. He is certain by now that Pompey’s and now Cato’s cause is a lost one.
This is why he refused to play a part in that ghastly war anymore, and why he is now stuck in Brundisium, with nothing to do other than to worry and wait for Caesar to pardon him. It makes his grim situation only slightly more bearable that his beloved Tulliola has come to stay with him.
But not Terentia. They communicate via letters that seem to grow ever shorter and colder in tone. She never offered to visit him, and he wrote her that her presence is not needed. And it truly isn’t.
So, he finally has made up his mind, it seems. He will divorce her once he is allowed to travel back to Rome, back to his peaceful villa in Tusculum.
Of course he regrets it. In some way. And there will certainly be gossip. There always is. His divorce will be counted as another one of his failures.
But deep down he also knows that it is the right decision. And Tullia hinted that Terentia seems to be of the same opinion. Apparently the only thing they can still agree on.
As he thinks back on their life together, he ultimately cannot find the one reason for his decision. As cliché as it sounds, they have just grown apart. No wonder, since they hardly saw each other in the last years. And if they did, it was to argue about money, politics, the children…
They used to need each other, but not anymore. Cicero is rich, he doesn’t need her money. And his name is more famous than hers could ever be. And Terentia has no use for a husband who fought on the wrong side of the Civil War. A husband who despises Caesar in Caesar’s Rome.
So, divorce it is. The word still tastes ugly. But not as ugly as a loveless, obsolete marriage.
Cicero knows he is going to miss Terentia’s counsel.
But, with most of his political friends dead and Caesar as the winner, he can already feel that his last fight for the Republic will be fought alone.
This time truly alone.