Dear, Ex-Husband

The Night Before Goodbye

Alana's POV

I swept my gaze across the room. Memories echoed from every corner. There were tears, sorrow, fleeting moments of happiness, loneliness, solitude—everything I had endured here played out like a documentary.

Three years. I survived a marriage without love for three years. I accepted every treatment Dave gave me—not cruel, not gentle either, but often silent. Being a stranger in his eyes was the deepest pain.

Tomorrow, we’ll meet in court. Let go of what must be let go. Sign papers that will become a record of the end of a story that never truly began.

My eyes welled up again, while my heart had long been crying, perhaps already shattered. This feeling is still intact. This love still belongs to him. And tomorrow... may be the last time I see him.

Sometimes I don’t understand why love can hurt this much. Why must there be unrequited love? Why must some people love alone, in silence, in estrangement, in rejection, and in endless sadness?

I glanced at our wedding photo still hanging on my bedroom wall. That day, I thought this was the dream marriage that would lead me to happiness. I had higher hopes for it. I wished we’d grow old together, raise children, complete each other. Share hardships and joy as one... Ah, maybe I was too lost in fairytales I used to read. Not all love stories end beautifully like those. Some are meant to be buried deep, because love can’t stand on one leg alone.

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. It had to be Dave. I told him to come in.

Dave stepped in slowly, his expression softer than usual. There was warmth this time, or maybe a flicker of guilt for a marriage that couldn’t be saved.

He sat beside me in silence, head slightly bowed.

“Tomorrow we’ll officially part ways. I realize over these three years, I’ve hurt you so much...” His voice trailed off. It was the first time I’d seen him this sad. Wasn’t he supposed to be happy about this divorce? He could marry Kelly once we were through.

“These three years must’ve been hard for you, haven’t they?” His voice was hoarse. Maybe all this time he chose to look away, pretending I was fine. Maybe he faked not knowing. But deep down, he knew I was hurting.

My tears started falling again. I lost count of how many times I’ve cried. Since marrying him, tears had been my best friend every night. The only thing that kept me strong when loneliness crept in.

“I used to wait for you to come home from work... hoping you’d see me still awake, waiting. That maybe your heart would soften. But you never looked. You went straight to your room without saying a word.” I wiped away the tears that streaked my cheeks.

“I used to hope for a miracle every day. That you’d look at me just once. That you’d notice the new lipstick I put on, or the dress I bought just to look pretty in your eyes... But you never did.” Again, I wiped away the remains of my swollen tears.

“It hurt so much... so much...” I broke down completely. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. My defenses crumbled.

Dave wiped my tears with his fingers. It was the first time he touched me with such gentleness, such care, when I was this broken.

“I’m sorry, Alana... I really am...”

We looked at each other. My eyes were already blurred with tears. Dave leaned in and kissed me, and I froze. I held my breath, chest tight because this kiss could be our last.

But he didn’t stop there. He pressed harder, our lips locking with a wet urgency. For a moment, I forgot that tomorrow we’d be letting go. Dave pulled me into his arms. His kiss deepened, hungry, desperate, charged with all the emotion we’d kept buried. We were letting it all pour out.

He kissed me like he was mapping every inch of my mouth. I felt like I was floating, drowning in a mixture of pleasure and emotions we’d never shared before. Tonight, we were finally connected. My reason dissolved. I didn’t push away when his fingers started undoing what they could. He slid my gown down, letting it pool to the floor. He fumbled with his shirt. We were no longer in control. He lowered me onto the bed and hovered over me, attacking again with kisses that landed over every inch of my skin. Dave... this felt so good, so beautiful, so sensual, more heated and breathless than even our first night.

His touch was soft, yet a deep ache followed it. I realized this might be the last time he’d ever touch me. His kisses might have left so many marks on my body, like he wanted to claim me, to make sure I remembered he was the only man who’d ever touched me. How could it feel so good yet hurt so much at the same time? It hurt, because I knew I was going to lose him forever.

“Dave...” I moaned again and again. He grew more relentless with each motion.

Then he whispered, warm against my ear, “I want you, Alana... so much...”

******

I glanced at Dave, sleeping soundly next to me. I sat in silence, replaying the night we’d just shared. This sweet memory will stay with me always. Love and pain now blurred into one.

I looked down at my body, wrapped in nothing but a blanket. The traces of Dave’s love lingered, scattered across every inch of my skin. And it hurt so deeply—to be reminded once again that we were about to part ways.

After becoming one last night, this morning we return to strangers... My heart weeps again, and the tears fall once more. Letting him go hurts so much. But I have to be strong. I have to turn the page... without Dave.