I put my hand against the wall. The wallpaper felt cold under my palm, and I remember thinking how strange that was because nothing in our apartment had ever felt cold before.
His words echoed in my head.
"She's not wife material."
After eight years of love, loyalty, and the belief that we wanted the same future, I still wasn't the woman he wanted to marry. I was just convenient, someone who made his life easier.
I remember thinking how strange that was.
I didn't make a sound.
I walked back to the door, picked up my sneakers, and stepped out as quietly as I'd come in. I walked into the hallway. After about 10 minutes, I returned. This time, I jangled my keys loudly at the door, stomped my feet on the mat, and called out,
"Babe? I'm home. It's pouring out there!"
My boyfriend came out of the bedroom smiling, his phone nowhere in sight.
"Hey, you almost got soaked," he said, kissing my forehead. "What happened?"
"Class got canceled, and I got caught in the rain."
I didn't make a sound.
"Want me to start dinner?" Luke asked.
"That'd be amazing. Thank you."
I smiled at him. I laughed at the story he told about his coworker's dog. I ate the pasta he made and drank the wine he poured. I kissed him goodnight, like always.
But inside, something had already begun moving.
***
Later, I stood in the bathroom. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, at the woman who'd just spent the entire evening pretending.
She looked tired, but not broken.
"That'd be amazing."
I leaned closer to the mirror.
"No crying," I whispered. "You won't confront him. And you won't waste another year of your life."
The woman in the mirror nodded back at me.
I turned off the bathroom light and walked to bed, lying down beside the man I'd loved for almost a decade. He was already half asleep and pulled me closer without opening his eyes.
I stared at the ceiling for a long time, and by the time I fell asleep, I had the beginnings of a plan.
"You won't confront him."
***
The following morning, after Luke kissed me goodbye and left for work, I picked up the phone and called in sick to work. Then I called my sister.
"Jane, I need you to come over. Today, if you can."
She didn't ask why; she just showed up two hours later with coffee and a worried look. I told her everything about the phone call and the eight years that had quietly turned into nothing.
I even told her about the wedding venues I'd toured alone over the past year, the small deposits I'd put down at three of them just to hold dates, and the quiet, embarrassing hope that he'd propose soon enough for us to need them.
She didn't ask why.
Jane didn't gasp or cry.
She just set her coffee down and said, "Okay. What do you need?"
That single sentence carried me through the rest of the week!
***
By Thursday, I'd met Sarah's friend who worked in real estate. She found a small apartment across town for me. It had bright windows, a tiny balcony, and rent I could afford on my own. I signed the lease that same afternoon.
That night, I lay next to Luke and listened to him snore. He had no idea the floor had already gone out from under him.
"What do you need?"
