The Night I Went Quiet

Morning arrived far too bright for a night that dark.

I stood in the kitchen, spatula in hand, pressing the sunny-side-up egg so the edges crisped. The smell of toast filled the air. I cooked like usual, my body moving on autopilot, but something inside me had already died quietly. Or maybe not quietly, more like being taken out by a sniper from a rooftop.

Sebastian appeared a few minutes later, still in a thin black T-shirt and sweatpants. His hair was a mess in the way that used to make me want to grab him. Now it was nothing more than proof that life is sometimes deeply unfair.

I didn’t turn. I didn’t greet him. I didn’t ask if he slept well. I didn’t kiss his cheek. I didn’t do any of the small rituals I used to perform like a perfectly programmed robot designed to spoil that man.

I simply moved the egg onto my own plate. From the corner of my eye, I saw him pause at the doorway, then walk toward me.

“You didn’t make me breakfast?” he asked, sounding… confused.

Without looking at him, I said, “You’ve got hands. Use them.”

Silence settled, and I could feel his stare digging into the back of my neck. He took his own bread. Made his own coffee. Sat by himself. None of that should have been an achievement, but coming from Sebastian Romano, a man accustomed to being served by the world, the whole scene tickled the freshly awakened sadistic corner of my soul.

When I finally sat down and lifted a bite of egg to my mouth, Sebastian leaned back in his chair, watching me as if I were a crossword puzzle with one clue that refused to make sense.

“Jaz,” he said slowly. “Something wrong?”

I took a sip of orange juice before meeting his eyes. “No.”

Sebastian let out a short click of his tongue. “Don’t start that. Something is wrong. You’re not yourself.”

I let out a rough laugh. “You know what’s funny? I actually think… I’m finally myself again.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

I picked up my phone from the table and placed it between us like a trump card. “I went into your office last night.”

I watched him tense faster than a citywide blackout. His eyes went completely dark. “You shouldn’t have”

“I didn’t do anything we haven’t done before,” I cut in. “I just… turned on the computer. The screen popped up. W******p Web logged in on its own. You know the rest.”

I looked at him. Long enough to see something crack the surface of his calm. Just a hairline fracture. But it was there.

“Beauty.” The word slipped from my mouth like sweet poison. “Cute name for a contact, isn’t it? Very… creative.”

Sebastian didn’t blink.

“Do you want to explain?” I asked lightly, piercing the egg yolk with my fork as if slicing through his skull.

“I don’t need to explain something that”

“Oh, you do. You need to explain plenty.” I leaned forward slightly. “Including the fact that she’s your secretary. The woman I took to buy her first blazer. The one I treated to lunch when she said she was broke. The one I helped move out of her ratty apartment. Remember her? Or does that not matter either?”

For a second, he looked away. “I…” He drew in a breath. “What we have isn’t what you think.”

I held back a laugh. God, I truly held it back. “Oh, so the nude photos she sent were for scientific purposes? Public education?”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” I laughed, loud and sharp. “I find out my husband is sleeping with another woman, and I’m dramatic? You’re serious?”

He leaned back, his gaze turning cold, the same cold that once pulled me toward him. Now it made me want to throw my plate at his face.

“You and I…” he said slowly, “we haven’t been okay for a long time.”

My heart pinched. “Then why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say you were bored? That you wanted out? Why bring another woman into it?”

He pushed his plate aside, his fingers tapping the table, restless or angry, impossible to tell. “Because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

I stared at him as if he’d just claimed the earth was flat. “You didn’t want to hurt me… so you cheated on me? What logic is that?”

“She’s not what you think she is,” he replied. And that was the worst line of all.

“So you’re defending her.” My breath came out short. “Amazing. I appreciate the sincerity.”

“Jasmine”

“I’m done.” I stood up. “I’m completely done. I'm not going to beg. I’m not going to ask why. I’m not going to compete for your attention.”

Sebastian shot to his feet. “Don’t make decisions when you’re angry.”

I looked at him with a thin smile that didn’t get anywhere near my eyes. “You’ve been making decisions for both of us for months without saying a word. My turn.”

I grabbed my phone. Pushed the chair back. Walked past him without touching him.

+++

Night fell without compromise, pressing down on the city sky like the polished lid of a coffin. I stopped in front of the penthouse door, turning the key without hurry, without expectation. No sound inside. No heavy footsteps from Sebastian. No trace of his cologne drifting through the hall.

Silence.

I stepped in. The lights were still off. That was my first answer.

Hazel had sent the location half an hour ago. The tiny map pin in the screenshot practically mocked me. Kelsey’s apartment. Not far from downtown. New building. Expensive. Of course.

Hazel wrote: [He’s there. It’s been two hours. Liam says we can send the papers tomorrow.]

I replied with a thumbs-up emoji. The last bit of energy I had left.

I slipped on my house slippers and walked through the living room that should have felt warm, now nothing more than a museum where memories slowly rotted. A small lamp in the corner turned on automatically, casting shadows on the wall, and I briefly hated how beautiful the space still looked even when my life had fallen apart.

Our bedroom was dark. I switched on the bedside lamp. Soft yellow light fell over the expensive sheets, revealing loose folds like the bed itself knew someone hadn’t come home.

I took a long breath and opened the wardrobe.

This wasn’t the dramatic scene I’d pictured. No sobbing. No explosion of pain.

Instead… a silence spread inside me like a field of snow. White. Still. Its chill crept into my bones without knocking.

I took my suitcase. The same one I carried three years ago when we first got married. The color was still the same, champagne gold, though the corner had peeled a little.

I picked the clothes that had always been mine. The neat dresses I bought before I ever knew Sebastian. My favorite boots. The old perfume I once tucked away because Sebastian said he preferred another scent. I found my favorite jeans, the ones he said were “too casual for his wife.”

I put them all into the suitcase without much sound. The zipper slid like a blade slicing through the past.

On the vanity, the jewelry he’d given me lay in a perfect row. The wedding ring. A thin bracelet from Milan. A necklace with a tiny pendant that once made me cry from happiness. I touched the necklace briefly. A small pulse stirred in my chest, and memories tried to rise, but I shut them down.

I picked everything up. I placed them in a neat pile on the bed, on Sebastian’s side on purpose.

The divorce papers, the draft Hazel sent earlier this afternoon, had already been printed at Hazel’s office before I left. The paper was crisp white, a stark contrast against the gray sheets. I set it right in the middle of the jewelry. Sebastian Romano’s full name was written at the top, cold and solid. A name that once made me feel safe. Now it made my stomach turn.

I sat for a moment on the edge of the bed, looking at all of it. Looking at the life I built. And the life I was ready to leave.

My phone buzzed once. A message from Rhea: [You home? Need me to pick you up?]

Me: [No need. I’m fine. Just closing a door.]

Rhea replied with a black heart emoji.

I stood again and closed the suitcase. The zipper sounded like a final period. On my way to the door, I looked back once. The room looked the same. Neat. Expensive. Beautiful. But it didn’t feel like home. Not anymore. A part of me had once lived here, but tonight… she died neatly, politely, without making a mess.

I turned off the lights. Only the city glow from the large window remained, creeping across the carpet like lines of time.

Sebastian was probably kissing another woman right now. Probably looking at a body that wasn’t mine. Probably laughing. Probably lying to himself that this wouldn’t end badly. He didn’t know I had already closed the door on him since morning.

I pressed the elevator button, my suitcase behind me, its small wheels loud against the cold marble.

When the elevator opened, I stepped inside. The metal doors slid shut slowly.

And for the first time in my life… I didn’t want him to chase me. Didn’t want him to change his mind. Didn’t want an explanation.

I just wanted to leave.

And this time, I truly did.