Chapter 7

I sat there, in the same position for hours.

Not thinking clearly…. just staring ahead while everything slowly settled into place.

Three years.

Three years of living like this. In endurance. I couldn’t do it anymore.

It wasn’t even a question now.

I didn’t know where I would go. I didn’t know what would happen after I left.

But I knew I couldn’t stay here.

Not like this.

Not with him.

I had finally accepted it.

Dominic never loved me. He never would. So what was the point? Why stay and wait for the day he would humiliate me even more?

Why stay and pretend this was something it wasn’t?

A quiet breath left me.

There was nothing left here for me.

So I decided.

I would leave.

I reached for my phone and checked the time.

6:02 p.m.

I stared at the screen for a moment. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed. It didn’t feel like hours. It just felt… empty.

I pushed myself up.

The moment I stood, my head spun hard.

A sharp pain twisted in my stomach, making me flinch as my hand immediately went to the couch for support.

My vision went white.

For a second, everything disappeared.

I froze.

If I moved, I might fall.

A weak breath left me.

I’m going to pass out.

The thought came clearly this time. My body felt too light. Too unstable.

Then it hit me.

I haven’t eaten.

Not since yesterday.

Almost forty-eight hours.

That explained it.

I swallowed and forced myself to stand properly.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Then I started walking toward the kitchen.

Each step felt off balance. My head was still spinning, and I had to move more slowly than usual just to stay upright.

When I got there, I stopped.

I couldn’t cook.

I didn’t have the strength for it.

There was no leftover either.

So I opened the cupboard and grabbed the first thing I saw.

Cereal.

My hands shook as I poured it into a bowl. Some of it spilled, but I didn’t bother cleaning it. I added milk, my grip unsteady.

Then I picked up a spoon.

And started eating fast.

Too fast, as if my body couldn’t wait.

My heart was pounding hard against my chest.

My hands were shaking.

I kept eating.

Quickly. Repeatedly.

Like if I stopped, I might collapse right there.

I didn’t even notice when the bowl became empty.

I just stopped when there was nothing left.

Then I paused.

And for the first time since morning…

I could breathe a little.

Not fully.

But enough.

I set the bowl down on the counter without washing it. I couldn’t stand there any longer. I turned and walked out of the kitchen, heading upstairs slowly.

By the time I reached the room, I sat down immediately. My head was still spinning slightly. I closed my eyes just for a moment. I needed a few minutes.

But I didn’t have time.

I couldn’t sit here and rest like this.

I needed to leave before Dominic came back.

I couldn’t let him come back and see me like this.

I couldn’t face him. Not now. Not after everything. I might break. And I didn’t want to break in front of him. Not when he already looked at me like I was nothing.

After resting for a while, I opened my eyes.

Then I stood up and started packing.

I packed my clothes and a few shoes.

That was all.

I didn’t have much anyway.

Everything fit into a single rolling bag.

When I was done, I zipped it up and sat down on the bed trying to catch my breath.

I reached for my phone again.

6:58 p.m.

Almost 7.

I lowered it slowly and looked around the room. My gaze moved across everything. Then I reached out and touched the bed lightly.

The memories came.

Quiet nights.

Empty ones where I was waiting. Always waiting.

I pulled my hand back. I didn’t want to think about it. There was nothing here worth remembering.

Then I heard footsteps.

My head snapped toward the door immediately.

My heart started racing.

Why is he back now?

The door opened and Dominic walked in.

His eyes met mine.

Then slowly, his gaze shifted to the bag.

My stomach twisted.

He walked further into the room.

I noticed the slight movement of his throat as he swallowed.

Then he looked at me again.

My heart was pounding. My head was still spinning.

He opened his suitcase, reached inside, and pulled out a document. Then he stepped closer and stretched it toward me. His wedding ring caught the light.

“I’ve signed already,” he said.

His voice was calm.

“It’s our divorce papers.”

My body froze.