My Rise from The Ashes After Divorce

Chapter 9 -You Can't Break Me

The rain poured down on this stormy night, as I was shoved out at the door of my home, all because I wanted to divorce him. I rolled my suitcases to the trunk of the car, I looked up at the gray sky, as my tears continued to freely flow, I was glad it rained so no one could see me crying. There was no stopping what was happening to me, and the pain and hurt I had to endure it. But the cruelty of my husband didn’t start there. It surmounted over many years of marriage. The rain had become a metaphor for all I went through in my marriage. No marriage deteriorates overnight. It starts with one raindrop at a time, and before I knew it, I was living in a thunderstorm of heartbreak.

I sat in the back seat of the car, staring out at the streets that blurred by in a haze. My mind wrestling with fear and thoughts of where I was going. The drive was so long it seemed like I was being taken far away from civilization. Crenshaw’s family’s old estate was located at the end of this long-forgotten town. Where the local politicians were voted into office by the people to help them. But instead, the political leaders in that town lived in luxury and made the people struggle with meager handouts. It felt like a place stuck in its own little world where people either worked hard to get by or struggled to survive. It was hard to tell when someone might act out of envy or need. As we waited at a traffic light, I saw shady deals happening right in front of me. I felt vulnerable, like a lamb among wolves, aware that one wrong move could lead to trouble.

Tears were useless, but for some reason I couldn’t stop them from flowing.

I cringed when I thought about all the times I showed up with his lunch and dinner and offered food to the woman he was cheating on me with. I’m sure everyone knew what was going on but me."

I had no clue of the plot and scheme that was going on behind my back. That I was being sold into servitude. My future was so bright, and I had an optimistic outlook on life. Before I met Blake, I had just gotten hired as an interior designer at a well-known company. I loved my job, until I was manipulated by my uncle, and lied too by my husband who only viewed me as paid labor. But now I'm penniless, if only I knew what I know now, there was no way I would have worked like a slave to please him and his family the way I did. I thought he loved me, and everything I did was out of love for him.

"Mrs. Crenshaw, we have reached your destination."

"Oh, we have. This is it? Are you sure?" I said swallowing deeply looking at the sight before me.

"Yes, ma’am, I'm sure. This used to be a magnificent place many years ago." He said taking her suitcase out of the trunk and sitting on the uneven sidewalk.

"Ma’am, are you going to be okay?"

"I guess, I have no choice."

"Well Mrs. Crenshaw, hurry and get inside. Boy, this town has become a dump. There's a lot of unsavory trashy people in this town."

"Thank you for your concern."

The estate itself stood at the end of the road, overtaken by ivy and looking run-down, a stark contrast to the busy town. A sense of dread filled me as I approached it, feeling its strong isolation. I stood at the rusted iron gates of the estate looming before me an ancient beast. The wind whipped around me, biting at my skin, but it was nothing compared to the icy grip of betrayal that clenched my heart. I closed my eyes for a moment, willing memories of my husband out of mind and hopefully eventually out of my life altogether.

Look at it, Treasure! Isn’t it magnificent? Blakes’ evil voice and laughter echoed repeatedly in my head, only reminding me of my naivety.

“It was far from magnificent. It looked more like a mausoleum,” I muttered, forcing my trembling legs to carry me forward. As I approached, the decaying facade seemed to echo my tumultuous thoughts—a shell of grandeur, now just a silhouette of its former self. Each step crunched on gravel, the sound unsettling in the disquiet of the night.

Once inside, a dusky atmosphere enveloped me, bringing with it an oppressive sense of abandonment. Dust motes danced in the slivers of light that pierced through the grimy windows. I had expected the place to be in disrepair, yet the reality was worse than I had anticipated. The air was thick with neglect and stale smells, just as my heart felt heavy with betrayal.

I finally dropped my suitcase to the floor with a thud that reverberated through the silence. “Welcome to my new life,” I whispered, voice trembling, not sure if I addressed myself or the universe.

It was nothing like the elegant life I had left behind; instead, it loomed over me, a reminder of my uncertain future.

With a deep breath, I pushed through the living room door. An antique chandelier hung overhead, but its crystals were dulled by years of grime. “Perfect,” I said bitterly, tossing my hair back, “a fitting reflection of what my life has become.”

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking the silence. The familiar ringtone chipped away at my composure. It was Blake. my finger hovered over the screen, battling against the instinct to answer.

“Treasure?” His voice came through, casual yet sinister, dripping with the nonchalance that once charmed me. “I see you’ve arrived.”

“Why are you calling me, Blake?” I spat, gripping the phone tightly as anger coursed through my veins. “What more could you possibly want?”

“I just thought—”

I cut him off, fury bubbling to the surface. “Thought what? That I would be grateful for the ‘wonderful’ life you’ve gifted me? You left me with nothing but this crumbling shell of a house, and a broken heart!”

“Now, now, let’s not get emotional,” he said, as if addressing a child throwing a tantrum that he had to teach a lesson. “Now that I’ve had a few minutes to think about it. It’s better this way. You were unhappy as my wife, remember? Claire even mentioned how—”

“Don’t you dare say her name!” I cried, the resentment pouring out of me. “You think I don’t know? You think I didn’t see the way you looked at her? The late nights, the whispered secrets with you on the phone with her?”

“Treasure!” he snapped, his patience thinning. “I did what I had to do. You brought this on yourself. You need to find your independence.”

“Independence?” I echoed, incredulous laughter bubbling up. “Is that what you call stripping me of everything? My ‘independence,’ Blake, you let her destroy us. And for what? So, you could playhouse with your secretary? Fine! You didn’t want anything decent! Like a wife and family, did you? It doesn’t matter because I don’t want you anymore.”

The silence on the other end felt heavier than a stone. I could almost hear him weighing his next words as if he was selecting the most poisonous darts to throw at me. “You'll thank me one day,” he finally said, his tone chillingly calm.

“Thank you? For ruining my life?” I said, the tears I had valiantly been holding back now spilling over. “I don’t need your empty words. I need my life back.”

The line went dead, leaving me standing in the oppressive silence of the estate. I let the phone drop from my hand, falling onto the dusty floor with a soft thud.

I sank to the dusty floor, my resolve crumbling like the walls around me here, in my deserted castle or should I say prison, I had to accept the truth—Blake was right about one thing. I had to find my own independence, but I would do it on my own terms. The road ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but I could always see the potential in things when others couldn't.

A deep painful sob caught in my throat, if he thinks that sending me to this empty, rundown house will shake me up and make me wish for him to come back, he's wrong. I would rather struggle and suffer trying to stand on my own two feet before I go back to him. The house, condemned by time and neglect, would be my fortress.

“I won’t let you break me, Blake Crenshaw,” she vowed, her voice barely a whisper, but fierce, nonetheless.