Fifty-Five Divorces Later, I Walked Away to an Island

Every time I fought with David Shepard, my husband, he'd take me to the clerk's office to file for divorce. Then he'd wait quietly during the divorce waiting period, watching me act like a lovesick fool. During the divorce waiting period, he watched fireworks on a yacht with Serena Moore, his close friend, in his arms, while I prepared fancy meals, waiting for his return. By the fortieth period, he was escorting Serena to high-end banquets, while I imported expensive wool from the north to hand-knit winter scarves. At the fifty-fifth period, he was accompanying Serena for endoscopies, learning to make nutritious food, and even moving into her place to take care of her daily needs. I was done. I stopped trying to win him over. Instead, I bought myself an island across the ocean and made up my mind to cut all ties with this relationship. When two days remained in our final period, David bombarded my phone. "Cecilia! Where are you?" With half our home already emptied, I was busy packing the remaining belongings for shipment. "David, see you at the clerk's office the day after tomorrow morning. We're making it official. Divorce." A long silence followed before the line went dead with a beep. David was angry. It had always been like this. Whenever he got mad, he'd give me the silent treatment, hang up, or refuse to listen or respond. He'd just watch coldly as I groveled, my warm face pressing against his cold shoulder. My friends asked if I'd lost my mind, being this lovesick. I said, "Yes. Who could blame me? I was crazy about him." David was the only man I pursued during four years of college. After he rejected me countless times, I finally wore him down, and he accepted my love. We had a low-key engagement, registered our marriage, took wedding photos, and David never acknowledged me beyond our inner circle. On our wedding night, he pinned me down and warned, "I don't want children. You'd better not entertain the idea either." I nodded meekly, thinking this meant more sweet time for just us two. But after Serena graduated, he was never home, taking her out day and night. As dating rumors spread through our circle, everyone waited to see the humiliation of the rumored "Mrs. Shepard." "Ms. Anderson, when Mr. Shepard returns and sees this..." Jane Walker, the butler, watched our moving crew's bustling activity with unease, cautiously approaching me. "What will he do? Tell him I'm done playing these childish games." Hearing my icy tone and firm stance, Jane retreated without another word. Soon, David's relentless calls resumed. "David, there's nothing left to..." "Cecilia..." My heart clenched. I stopped mid-motion, a bitter taste rising in my throat, like something burnt from being left on the stove too long. That was rare. In three years of marriage, he'd hardly ever called me in such a tender tone. As I drew breath to respond, a burst of loud laughter came through the phone, someone shouting. "See, David can shut anyone up with just a single word!" "Come on, next round—truth or dare?" Realizing I'd been played, I let out a bitter laugh, silently cursing my own foolishness. Of course, it was David, after all, who was always capable of toying with others. What was I still deluding myself about at this point? Shaking off the disappointment, I was about to hang up when Serena's coy voice came through the line. "Uh, I got a dare..." "Kiss the person to your left for five minutes..." The noise suddenly stopped. I froze, gripping the phone so tightly that my knuckles turned white, the edge of the receiver burning against my ear. "Fine." David's lazy voice drifted through the phone, followed by the rustle of fabric. The crowd's cheers came in waves, and amidst the chaos, I could faintly hear Serena's flirtatious protest—"Stop it..." He'd left the call connected on purpose, as if staging this humiliation just for me. Tears broke free. I stormed into the bedroom and started tearing apart every customized couple item we owned—ripping, smashing, destroying. I surrendered. I gave up—this long-distance race of love and these seven years of my youth. I didn't want to waste any more time on obsessions that would never come true.