TOO LATE TO WANT ME BACK

Amelia The smell of dinner filled the apartment. I stood by the dining table, adjusting the plates for the third time. The pasta was getting cold, and the candle I'd lit nearly an hour ago had already burned halfway down. My eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. 9:47 PM. Ethan was late again. I sighed and reached for my phone, biting back my frustration. No messages. No calls. Nothing. Three years ago, I would have worried. Two years ago, I would have called him. Now? I already knew the regular. “I was caught up at Work”, “ We had a Business meeting”. “ I had to meet with an Important client”. “ There was an Emergency conference I had to attend to”. The excuses never changed. The sound of keys rattling outside the door pulled me from my thoughts. A moment later, the door swung open. I winced and shrank further into the Chair Ethan stepped inside. His expensive suit jacket hung loosely over one shoulder, and his attention remained fixed on his phone. Not me. Not the dinner. Not the fact that I'd been waiting for hours. Himself. As always. "You're late," I said quietly. He didn't look up. "I know." That was it. No apology. No explanation. Just two words. Something inside me tightened. It took every ounce of self-control not to lunge at him. "I made dinner." I said grudgingly "Not hungry."He walked straight past me. I stared at his back. Three years. Three years of trying. Three years of making excuses for him. Three years of convincing myself that things would get better. Who am i kidding?, heat flooding my cheeks. Lately, it felt like I was living with a stranger. "Ethan." His footsteps stopped. Slowly, he turned around. "What now?" The irritation in his voice made my stomach twist. I swallowed hard. "When was the last time we actually spent time together?" He let out a tired sigh. Like he’s the one who’s suffering in this Marriage. "Amelia, not tonight." "You always say that." "Because you're always starting arguments." My eyes widened. "Arguments?" "Yes." A bitter laugh escaped me. "I'm asking my husband to spend time with me." "And I'm telling you I'm tired." The words hit harder than they should have. Maybe because deep down, I knew this conversation wasn't really about tonight. It was about every night. Every canceled date. Every anniversary he forgot. Every promise he broke. "You know what?" I said softly. "I don't even recognize you anymore." That finally got his attention. His jaw tightened. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?" "It means you haven't treated me like your wife in a long time." His eyes darkened. "I work twelve hours a day for this family." "What family, Ethan?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. Silence filled the room. Dangerous silence. Regret gnawed at me But it was too late to take it back. Ethan laughed once. A cold laugh. My stomach churned. "Unbelievable." "I'm serious." "So am I." He tossed his phone onto the couch. "Everything I do is for us." "No." I shook my head. "Everything you do is for yourself." The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I'd crossed a line. His expression changed. Not anger. Something worse. Pride. The wounded pride of a man who couldn't stand being challenged. "What did you say?" My heart hammered. But I forced myself to meet his gaze. "You heard me." His face hardened. "You sit at home and judge me while I carry this marriage." My chest tightened. "Carry this marriage?" "Yes." I stared in Disbelief . "I gave up opportunities for you." "Nobody asked you to." The words struck me like a slap. For a moment, I couldn't breathe, a lump formed in my throat Nobody asked you to?. Three years of sacrifices. Three years of support. Three years of standing beside him. And that was what they were worth. Nothing. The room suddenly felt empty, Tears burned behind my eyes. But I refused to let them fall. "I can't do this anymore." My pulse quikened. Ethan stared at me. "What?" I took a shaky breath. "I can't keep pretending everything is fine." "You're being dramatic." "No." My voice trembled. "I'm exhausted." Something flashed in his eyes. Annoyance. Disgust. Impatience. The same look he'd been giving me for months. "I'm not having this conversation." He turned away. I felt something inside me snap. Ice coursed through my veins. "Of course you're not." His shoulders stiffened. "Amelia." "You never want to talk." "Enough." "You never listen." "I said enough." "And you never care about anyone except yourself you selfish prick!" The words echoed through the apartment. For one second, everything froze. Goosebumps prickled across my skin. Then Ethan spun around. Fast. Too fast. His hand shot upward. I never saw it coming. One moment, he was across the room. The next— SMACK. Pain exploded across my cheek. The force sent me stumbling backward. My hand flew to my face. My ears rang. The apartment became eerily quiet. Neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. I stared at him. Frozen and still in disbelief of what just happened. Ethan stared at me. The realization slowly settled between us. He'd hit me. For the first time in three years... My husband had raised his hand against me. The anger vanished from his face. Shame settled heavily on his shoulders. "Amelia..." My throat tightened. I took a step backward. Then another. And another. His eyes widened. "Wait." I shook my head. My entire body fidgeted "Amelia, I—" "Don't." My voice barely came out. The sting on my cheek was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. "Don't." For the first time all night... Ethan looked afraid. His voice trembled in Fear. "Listen to me." I laughed. A broken laugh. The kind that sounded more like crying. "No." His expression faltered. I looked at the man I'd loved for three years. And suddenly, I didn't recognize him anymore. Maybe I hadn't for a long time and I kept lying to myself. Slowly, I turned around. And walked toward the bedroom. Behind me, Ethan called my name multiple times. I never answered. Because for the first time since marrying him... I knew exactly what I was going to do. Tomorrow morning... I was filing for divorce.