Divorced but still yours

Goodbyes

Chapter Five

Melissa's POV

I took one last look at Danny, sprawled on our couch in the living room, an empty bottle of whiskey lying on the floor beside him. He had been drinking—perhaps celebrating his win. He was finally free.

I searched his sleepy face for that expected sign of relief, but it wasn’t there. His features didn’t look happy. There was no self-gloating smirk, no half grin, no relaxed muscles that spoke of satisfaction.

But I didn’t care at this point.

It had taken a full week of painful anguish to finally decide that I could move on. That I still had a chance at life outside this marriage. That it was going to be hard and daunting—maybe miserable even—but I was going to try to live nevertheless. So there was no way a blank expression on the face of a sleeping ex-husband was going to undo my resolve.

I dragged my baggage and headed out quietly. I had left his diamond ring on our dressing desk upstairs—the only physical symbol of the bond that had existed between us. I didn’t take any pictures or items that would pull weight in my thoughts. If I was going to heal, then I needed to do it properly, without allowing objects to bring stabbing memories that would slow the process.

I was completely oblivious during my journey. Lost in thought the entire one hour it took the plane to fly from Texas to Houston. I only became aware of my surroundings when I landed at the airport, greeted by the piercing screams of my mother and best friend welcoming me home.

“Oh my God, look at you!!!” Winny was the first to reach me, flinging her arms around my neck.

“Get away, I need to hug my daughter,” my mother said playfully, dabbing at her to untangle the hug.

“Calm down, Mary. I haven’t seen my best friend in three months,” Winny defended, still clinging to me.

“Neither have I.”

Just hearing them argue over who got to hug me filled me with a little hope. At least I still had people who cared—who loved me. People who wouldn’t hand me divorce papers.

When my mother finally got her turn, it was a warm hug that spoke volumes of home. I thought of remaining in her arms and breaking down, finally letting out all the tears I had been holding back. But I didn’t. I couldn’t let them know about the divorce just yet—especially not my mother.

“This is an awful amount of luggage to bring for a visit, Melissa,” Winny called from behind the car, dragging out my bags.

“Don’t mind her, dear. You’re free to stay at your mother’s for as long as you want, baby,” my mother said gently.

“Mary, come on. I’m not saying she can’t stay,” Winny replied. “But she just got married. What would Danny be doing if she stayed out here too long?” She pulled out the last box and dragged it over to us, breathing heavily as though she’d climbed a mountain.

“You don’t want to give that fine-ass husband of yours the chance to start looking at some other chick.” She wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her palm, half-grinning at her own statement.

I suddenly realized how hard it would be to forget my ex-husband if my mother and Winny kept bringing him up in every conversation. It wouldn’t be their fault. If we weren’t divorced, I would have laughed happily at the mention of his name.

“What’s wrong, Melissa?” my mother asked, turning to me.

“Huh? Nothing. I’m… I’m fine,” I stuttered, realizing I had been quietly staring at them since I arrived.

“Thank God, she still has her tongue,” Winny teased.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Mel. Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Um… jet lag,” I forced a smile.

“Jet lag?” Winny and Mary asked in unison.

“I’m sorry, honey. We should take you home to rest. You look like you’d fall sick any moment,” my mother said.

“Have you been stressing? With those crime cases you always bury yourself in? Is it married life?” Winny kept throwing questions as we got into the car and drove off. Thank God my mom was there to speak in my place.

I almost smiled listening to their banter. Winny had become like my mom’s daughter back in high school. She spent weekends over, and sometimes my mom took both of us to the mall to shop for Thanksgiving. She was always around—like the sister I never had.

They had tied colorful ribbons everywhere and put up a Welcome Home sign. It all felt like too much, as though I’d been gone for years. My room had been neatly arranged and aired. It felt good to be home. Just breathing different air lifted a weight off my shoulders.

My mom had made over ten different dishes. Winny couldn’t wait to hear how my marriage was going—what sweet things Danny and I had going on. Their excitement was genuine; it shone in their eyes. So I forced a few smiles, ate a little of my mom’s food, and excused myself, claiming my head was aching and I needed rest.

Once alone in my room, I breathed in relief. It felt strange for the first few hours. I had grown used to the room I shared with my ex-husband—our matrimonial bed, my large dressing table. But this would do. Now, alone, I wouldn’t need all that space reminding me that I was supposed to belong to someone.

I glanced at my bags waiting to be unpacked, listened to the echoes of laughter and chatter downstairs as my mom and Winny gisted, then flung myself onto the bed. I closed my eyes, hoping for my first peaceful sleep in a week—one not haunted by silence, loneliness, or the image of a brown envelope containing the end to an art in my life.

Now it was time to start a different part. And I truly wondered what I would do when I woke up… or if coming ho

me had even been the right choice to make in the first place.