Five

The next day dawned bright and clear, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within Delia. Armed with determination and a list of potential attorneys, she began her day with a sense of purpose. Before heading out, she treated herself to a long, hot shower, allowing the soothing waters to wash away remnants of the previous day’s hurt. Each droplet felt like a renewal, cleansing her spirit as she prepared to step into a new chapter of her life.

She dressed carefully, opting for a tailored outfit that made her feel confident—a powerful reminder of the woman she had once been. As she glanced in the mirror, Delia caught her reflection and noticed a flicker of resolve in her eyes. It reminded her of the woman she had always strived to be: strong, independent, and fierce.

After breakfast, she met her friend at a cozy café close to one of the law firms she was considering. Her friend greeted her with an encouraging smile, and they quickly fell into a discussion about strategy over steaming cups of coffee.

“Have you thought about what you want to say to Thomas when you finally talk to him?” her friend asked, concern etched on her brow.

Delia frowned, taking a moment to sip her coffee. “Honestly? I’m not sure I even want to talk to him. What’s there to say? He made his choice, and it wasn’t me.”

“But closure can be important. Even if it feels pointless now, it might help you settle your thoughts,” her friend suggested gently.

“Maybe you’re right,” Delia conceded, her mind racing with thoughts of Thomas. “I could at least tell him what I’ve decided. He needs to understand that this is over, and there’s no going back.”

A few hours later, after a couple of consultations with law firms, Delia felt empowered. She had a clearer understanding of her rights and the process ahead. No longer did the fear of the unknown paralyze her; instead, she felt invigorated. She even took a crucial step—she began documenting financial assets and any contributions she had made to their home. It was time to ensure that if he had chosen someone else, he would have to deal with the consequences of that choice.

Once she finished her third appointment, a wave of exhaustion rolled over her. She found herself driving toward their shared home, her heart pounding as a mix of anxiety and anticipation coursed through her veins. Delia knew she needed to confront Thomas, to lay everything bare and not shrink into the shadows of her own life.

Arriving home, she hesitated at the door, memories flooding her mind. She recalled the laughter, the plans they had made—the sweet moments that seemed a lifetime ago. But she couldn’t afford to linger in nostalgia. The time had come to face the truth.

She stepped inside, tension knotting in her stomach. The place felt empty, the silence echoing around her like an unwelcome guest. She knew Thomas was supposed to be at work, but she needed to be prepared in case he came home early. She sat down in the living room, her hands fidgeting with a small decorative pillow.

A few minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity before the sound of the front door opening jolted her. Delia looked up to see Thomas entering. He seemed taken aback to find her there, a flash of surprise crossing his features.

“Delia!” he exclaimed, closing the door and trying to read her expression. “What are you doing home?”

“I needed to talk to you,” she answered, her voice firm despite the tumult of emotions roiling inside her.

“Is everything alright?” Concern flickered in his eyes, but Delia could see it was a façade. He seemed on edge, perhaps worried about her demeanor.

“Everything is not alright, Thomas," she said, rising to her feet. "I know about Samantha. I don’t need to unpack the details because you’ve made your choice abundantly clear. And frankly, I’m done being the woman who’s waiting for scraps of your affection.”

His face paled, and in that moment, Delia felt a surge of strength. She finally had a voice, and she intended to use it. “I deserve better than to be your option while you pursue whatever it is you think you have with her. I’m going to file for divorce.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and she watched as the color drained from his face.

“Delia...,” he began, his voice low, almost pleading. “Please, let’s talk about this.”

“No,” she said, cutting him off. “There’s nothing to discuss. I’ve given you my heart, my loyalty, and my trust. You’ve shattered that, and I can’t return to a love that exists only in the past.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she held her hand up, encouraging silence. “I want to make this as easy as possible, but trust me when I say I won’t be bullied or coerced into staying with someone who doesn’t respect me. I’m taking back my power, and I will fight for my future.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, genuine regret washing over his expression, but Delia could see the remnants of guilt mixed in with self-preservation.

“If you didn’t mean to hurt me, you wouldn’t have strayed in the first place,” she replied, her voice steely. “I know what I need to do moving forward, and I hope you take this time to think about what you’ve done.”

With each word, each assertion, she felt a little more of the pain lift. Thomas stood there, frozen, grasping for something, anything, to hold on to.

“Delia...” he tried again, but she turned away, her heart fortified by resolve.

“I’m done, Thomas.” With that, she walked past him and out of the room, leaving him standing in a stark silence filled with his own regrets.

As she stepped outside, the weight of their shared life hung like a shadow behind her. But stepping away, she felt the reins of her own destiny loosening in her hands. The wind rustled through the trees, refreshing and invigorating. Every step away from that house marked movement toward a new beginning, a story that was no longer written by him.

As she climbed into her car, for the first time in a long time, Delia felt free. She was finally reclaiming herself, ready to embrace whatever life had waiting for her ahead.