When Love Wore Thin

Breaking Point

Chapter 4

Richard did not come home in an hour. He came home at midnight.

I heard his car pull into the driveway, the engine cutting off, the door slamming shut. I sat on the couch, hands folded in my lap, trying to keep my breathing steady. The suitcase was still by the stairs. I had not moved it, had not changed my mind.

He walked in, loosening his tie, barely glancing at me. "You said we needed to talk?"

"Yes."

He sighed, the kind of sigh that said he was already annoyed, already done with this conversation before it even started. "Can you make it quick? I have an early surgery tomorrow."

I stood and walked to the stairs, picking up the suitcase. His eyes followed the movement, confusion flickering across his face.

"What is that?"

"I am leaving, Richard."

He stared at me like I had just spoken another language. "Leaving? What are you talking about?"

I set the suitcase down and reached into my bag, pulling out the divorce papers Patricia had couriered over that afternoon. I had not expected them so soon, but she had rushed the process, sensing my urgency. I held them out to him.

"I want a divorce."

Richard did not take the papers. He just looked at them, then at me, then back at the papers. "You are joking."

"I am not."

"Evelyn, what is this about? Is this because I have been working late? Because I…"

"This is about eight years of being invisible," I said, my voice shaking but steady. "This is about you forgetting our anniversary. This is about you taking our daughter to spend time with Mirabel while I sit here and pretend it does not break me. This is about me finally realizing I deserve better."

He laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Better? What do you think you are going to find out there, Evelyn? You have no job, no career. You have been a housewife for eight years. Who is going to want you?"

His words hit like a slap, but I did not flinch. I had expected this. I had expected him to try to make me feel small, to remind me of everything I had given up for him. But I was done letting him define my worth.

"I do not need anyone to want me," I said quietly. "I just need to want myself again."

"This is ridiculous." He shook his head, tossing the papers onto the side table without even looking at them. "You are being dramatic. You will calm down in a few days, and we can forget this ever happened."

"I am not being dramatic. I am done, Richard. I am done waiting for you to love me. I am done pretending this marriage is something it is not."

"What about Victoria?" he demanded, his voice rising. "You are just going to take her away from her father?"

"You are barely her father now," I shot back. "When was the last time you put her to bed? When was the last time you helped her with homework or asked about her day? You only notice her when it is convenient for you, when you can use her to impress Mirabel."

"Do not bring Mirabel into this."

"Why not? She is already in it. She has been in it for months, Richard. Or did you think I did not notice?"

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration written all over his face. "Mirabel is a colleague. That is all."

"Then why is there a photo of the two of you on your desk? Why do you smile at her the way you have never smiled at me?"

He did not have an answer for that. He just stood there, jaw tight, eyes cold.

"I found it today," I continued. "I went into your study, and I saw it. And I realized that I have been fighting for a man who does not even see me. I am done fighting, Richard. I am letting you go."

"You are making a mistake," he said, his voice low and hard. "You think you can just walk away and start over? You think life is going to be easier without me?"

"I do not know if it will be easier," I admitted. "But it has to be better than this."

He stared at me for a long moment, and I thought maybe, just maybe, he would say something real. Something honest. But instead, he picked up his keys and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Out. I am not doing this tonight."

"Richard…"

The door slammed shut behind him, and I was alone again. I sank onto the couch, the adrenaline draining out of me, leaving me shaky and exhausted. I had done it. I had said the words. I had handed him the papers. And he had walked away, just like I knew he would.

I looked at the divorce papers sitting on the table and wondered if he would ever sign them. Part of me thought he would, just to be rid of me. But another part wondered if his pride would get in the way, if he would drag this out just to punish me for daring to leave.

I did not sleep that night. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for him to come back. But he did not. Morning came, and he still was not home.

I got Victoria ready for school like nothing had happened. She asked where Daddy was, and I told her he had an early shift at the hospital. She accepted it without question, and I hated how easy it was to lie to her.

After I dropped her off, I went back home and started packing more seriously. I was not going to wait for Richard to take me seriously. I was going to leave, with or without his cooperation.

Sarah found me in the bedroom, folding clothes into boxes.

"You are really doing this," she said softly.

"Yes."

"Where will you go?"

"I rented a flat across town. It is small, but it is enough for me and Victoria."

Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, watching me. "I am proud of you, Mrs. Evelyn."

I stopped folding and looked at her, surprised. "Proud?"

"You have put up with more than any woman should. It takes strength to walk away."

Her words made my eyes sting, and I blinked back tears. "I do not feel strong."

"You will," she said gently. "Give it time."

I finished packing and loaded everything into my car. The house felt emptier with every box I carried out, but I did not let myself think about that. I could not afford to second-guess this.

By the time I picked Victoria up from school, I had moved most of our things to the new flat. I told her we were going to stay somewhere new for a little while, that it would be an adventure. She was confused but excited, the way children are when they do not understand the weight of what is happening.

That night, in our new flat, I tucked her into bed and kissed her forehead.

"Mama, when is Daddy coming?"

"Soon, sweetheart. He is just very busy right now."

She nodded and closed her eyes, trusting me completely. I stood in the doorway and watched her fall asleep, and I wondered how I was going to explain all of this to her when she was old enough to understand.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Richard's name. My heart jumped, but when I opened the message, it was short and cold.

"This is childish, Evelyn. Come home."

I deleted the message and turned off my phone. I was not going home. I was already there.