That betrayal—that complete lack of acknowledging my worth—drove a knife deeper into my heart than any affair ever could have done. An affair said, “My gaze wandered.” But that said, “I don’t see you at all.”
“I just don’t get paid for my work!” I panted, my hands on my hips as my heart thundered with rage, agony, and grief.
“Oh, so all these years, spending time with our kids, helping out family … that’s been a job? Wow … that will make the kids feel really wanted.”
I shook my head. “That’s not fair. And that’s not what I meant.”
He shoved his chair backward and stood. “Yes. That’s what you meant, and it’s such a double standard. Isn’t it? For years, when you needed to do stuff after I got home from a long day, and I acted the least bit tired when you asked me to watch the kids, you got so pissed off. And always delivered that stupid lecture every time I used the word babysitting. Parents don’t babysit … it’s called parenting. That’s what you said. So don’t give me this crap about raising our kids being your job.”
“Job was your fucking word, not mine.”
His eyebrows shot up his forehead. Swear words never fell from my lips. Not around him. Not around the kids. It was the first time he heard me drop the f-bomb.
“I said work, not job.” I ignored his shock at my language. “A lot of things in life are work. Planning a vacation. Decorating the house for the holidays. Cooking meals. Exercising. Pretending that my husband referring to sex as ‘Saturday shaboink’ doesn’t utterly repulse me. It’s all so much work, Craig.”
“Elle—”
“MY FUCKING NAME IS ELSIE!”
His jaw unhinged like a stiff door. “Do … you need a minute?”
My heart thudded against my chest, a racehorse coming into the final turn. It hurt so much I thought it would just stop beating—because I loved him.
Because I had loved him for as long as I could remember.
Because we'd made a life together—a beautiful life.
But that life went to college. That life moved on to start new lives. And I didn’t like my new life.
“I don’t need a minute. I need out.” Holding on was painful. Letting go—it ripped me to shreds. It felt selfish but necessary for my own self-preservation.
His unkempt eyebrows knitted together. “A few hours away?” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and blew out a slow breath. “Whatever, El-seee. I wish I could take the day off every time I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
I glanced around the house we’d have to sell, but before I let all the memories it held thwart my moment, I returned my gaze to him. “I want out of this marriage.” Tears instantly burned my eyes. I wanted out, but saying the actual words cut deeper than I imagined—like something died. Like we died. The shock on Craig’s face hurt more than I imagined too.
“Be…” he shook his head as if it would unscramble the words I said, and they would not mean I wanted a divorce “…because we had a little fight? Because I call you Elle? Because I joked about sex?”
The tears escaped down my face, but I made no effort to wipe them. “Because I’m miserable.” Why did finally valuing myself feel so … incredibly … selfish?
He coughed a sarcastic laugh. “Miserable? Our house is paid for. We have four amazing kids. I’ve invested so much money we could retire tomorrow. You have a brand-new car. I don’t cheat on you. We don’t fight about money. Every year we take a vacation. You have the life most women would kill to have. What in the hell could possibly be making you miserable?”
He was right on all accounts.
“Money doesn’t buy happiness.”
“So it’s me?”
I nodded.
“Well, what do you want me to do?”
“Nothing.”
“Jesus! You want to end our marriage because of me, so there must be something I can do. I don’t get one chance to make things right?”
“It’s not …” My head eased side to side. “It’s not that simple.”
Because I’ve fallen out of love with you. You will always own a piece of my heart, but you are not the reason it beats.
“You’re not perfect either.”
My focus shifted to my feet, the purple polish chipping off my toenails. “Believe me … I know.”
When we were younger, before we got married, we’d break up and get back together. This happened several times before I got pregnant with the twins. Breaking up was