It wasn't as if Ashleigh hadn't tried. She had tried. And tried. And ignored the names and looks. But when her husband informed he hated her, something broke.
Patrick had stared at her, ice in his eyes.
"I haven't been able to stand you for the longest time," he said. "You're bland and stale. You've done nothing new since we married 2 years ago and I would be happier without you in my life."
She had had no words then. She was used to not rising to his words and trying to defuse the situation. It wasn't even out of the ordinary for him to say he hated her. They would ignore each other for the night after he had blown up at her and she had stayed quiet. She would sleep on the couch with the dog. Then in the morning, he would apologize. Patrick would say how he just was so upset about what they had been fighting about. So hurt. So he needed to say something that would hurt her too. He didn't really hate her. He didn't really want a divorce. And Ashleigh would forgive him, and apologize for her part in the fight. And they would move on.
Until the next time.
Ashleigh had prepared for a quiet night on the couch. She had been surprised to see Patrick emerge from their bedroom with a duffel bag only a short time later. He had left the house without a word to her and drove off. Ashleigh slept on the couch, so that the bed was empty for him when he came home.
She woke to an empty house.
She cleaned the house, her normal Saturday routine. By the time she had finished folding laundry it was early afternoon. Patrick hadn't come home and there were no texts or missed calls on Ashleigh's phone. It was at the point that she began to wonder if this fight was different than the others.