I'm Done Playing Along

The ring landed on the table with a sharp clink.

The color drained from Declan Mercer's face. Even his parents, who had been content to watch from the sidelines, froze up.

It had been six long years of living like this. Every time Declan cut me down with some biting remark, I never needed anyone to coax me.

I just listened to his inner voice, and I would go running to make up with him, eager and willing.

Over time, everyone had simply gotten used to it. They even joked about it, saying, "A difficult man needs a wife who won't be scared off by a little yelling."

When I took off the ring, his mother, Janet, rushed forward.

"Wren, what's gotten into you? Are you having a bad day? You're not usually one to make a fuss over things like this."

His father, Albert, turned stern. "This is a family dinner. Even if you're upset, don't joke about divorce. Put the ring back on."

I let out a quiet laugh. "So you do know this is a family gathering. In that case, when exactly did Declan’s assistant become part of the family?"

Neither of them had a word to say to that.

Declan shot to his feet, jaw clenched. "Wren, are you done making a scene?

"You want a divorce? Fine! Then get the hell out! This family has no use for an ungrateful wretch like you!"

Beneath the cruelty, as always, was the voice he kept buried inside.

‘Why do you want a divorce, honey? Are you leaving me? You said you'd love me forever!

‘This is just a joke, right? I'll lose my temper, and you'll come running to hold me. That's how it always goes.’

I had been absorbing this duality for ten full years. When I first met Declan, he had severe autism and an emotional processing disorder. He could not express how he truly felt.

Instead, he had learned to lash out at the people around him with the cruelest words he could find. I was fortunate enough to be able to hear what he actually felt inside.

Whenever he told me to get lost, his inner voice would plead with me, almost pitifully.

‘Don't go. I need you.’

My heart ached for him. I got closer to him, and we eventually became a couple. We had known each other for four years before we got married, and the marriage itself had lasted six years. Because of me, he let down his guard against the world. He no longer needed medication to function and could live like anyone else.

Over the six years of our marriage, he treated everyone with warmth—except me. He was cold and vicious to me and me only.

It was not as though I never felt wronged, but his mother always said the same thing.

"Wren, you know his mind works differently. He isn't like other people. Just bear with him a little. Besides, he never means what he says. Deep down, you’re the only one that matters to him."

Because I could hear Declan's inner voice, I believed her. However, that was until his assistant, Petra Langford, came into the picture.

Declan, who had never understood romance when it came to me, rented out an entire amusement park for Petra's birthday. He bought a piece of jewelry I had been admiring for six months and clasped it around Petra's neck without a second thought.

He even brought her to family gatherings.

His inner voice kept repeating that he loved me, craving my jealousy to soothe his insecurities. It took being shoved aside and pushed to the very edge for me to finally understand.

I had been lying to myself all along.

True love needed tenderness, and Declan had never once given me that.