5 - Three Days

Melissa’s POV

My words hang between us like a verdict. Andrew stares at me for a couple of seconds, the coldness in his gaze turning into sarcastic amusement.

Andrew laughs coldly, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes. He takes a step closer to me.

“Are you really willing to divorce me? Is this a new trick? Do you really think it’s working?”

I’ve known him long enough to recognize the challenge in his tone. He doesn’t believe me, and I can admit that I haven’t given him nearly enough reason to believe that I can leave him. I’ve always begged and negotiated, overcompensated for the fact that he doesn’t care.

But not anymore.

I want to stop dignifying everything he says, because I’m just so… exhausted. There’s always drama.  I just turn around and leave. I head to our house, the place I’ve been dreading since the news.

The house is cold, empty. The sunlight is bright outside and the garden is in full bloom, but I don’t feel the heat. I don’t see color. Allie seems to have taken everything good with her when she died.

I can’t live here anymore. Not where her memories can haunt me. I go up the stairs to take all my things from our bedroom, stuffing them haphazardly in suitcases. I also take Allie’s things. I can’t bear the thought of leaving them all here. I’ll go back to the house my foster mother has left for me. It’s not the first place I would choose, but I don’t really have a choice.

The drive there is long, but I have time. The house is bare, but it’s not run down. The wallpapers are still intact, all the structure still sound. It’s left to me in such a good condition that I can almost smell my foster mother in the halls.

I leave all the boxes in the living room, meaning to sort them all out when all of this is done.

Before, whenever I needed space from Andrew, I would come here with Allie.. She’s safest here. Each time that happened, Andrew would come calling for me, telling me to come back.

But even if he does that right now—which I’m sure he won’t—I’m not coming back.

I’m about to haul my bags down the stairs when my phone vibrates with a text.

It’s from Andrew.

“Where on earth are you?” he demands through text. “Come back home NOW.”

Without hesitation, I block his number.

The day passes. There are so many things that I need to pack, and I know that it would take me a full day or so. I find it hard to let go, especially Allie’s bedroom.

That night, I sleep in her bed, crying into her pillows and plushes. Andrew doesn’t show up, and I’m alone mourning our daughter.

* * *

The next day, I can barely get up. I can barely even open my eyes, which are so swollen from crying.

 It doesn’t matter now, though. 

Today, I’m leaving this house for good.

But just as I’m about to go down, I hear the front door open. I rush down to the top of the stairs and find Andrew marching up, angry.

“Why did you leave the house without telling me?” he demands. “I was looking for you! I was looking for Allie! I even went back to the hospital to check!”

I ignore him, pushing past him, but then he grabs me by the arm and forces me to look at him.

“Let me go, Andrew.”

“No.” Andrew leans in, his face too close for comfort. “Why the hell did you block me? What game are you playing, huh?”

I slip out of his grasp but he instead takes my hand. He pulls me towards him, and I know that when he wraps his arms around me to keep me still, I’m not going to escape.

So I take the chance to step on his foot and make him release me.

“Ow!” he yells, stepping away from me and releasing me.

I manage to get away from him but he follows me once more. “Don’t you dare lay your hands on me!”

Andrew doesn’t listen. He snatches me again, stopping me from getting to my stuff. “You’re my wife.”

“We are getting divorced,” I say coldly, meeting his eyes. “I’m not going to be your wife any longer. So learn your place and don’t cross boundaries.”

“Divorce?” He scoffs. “Did I agree to divorce you?”

With that, he lets me go, pushing me slightly. He looks around the house, particularly at the open door of Allie’s room.

“Allie?” His voice softens, in a sweet tone that I can almost believe. But my heart has hardened enough. “Daddy has come to apologize. Are you mad at me?”

I can tell that he’s waiting for Allie to come out and smile at him from the top of the stairs like she usually does. The pause in the air is both painful and infuriating.

Still, I let Andrew come up the stairs to look for Allie. When he finds the room empty, he turns to me. “Where’s Allie? Are you hiding her?”

I swallow back my grief. “You’re never going to see her again.”

Andrew’s mouth falls wide open with shock. The next words out of his mouth pass through his teeth in anger. “So this is how you decide to punish me? By denying my daughter of his father?” When I don’t say anything, he paces the floor and shakes his head. “You’re a petty woman. You’re vengeful. It’s one single broken promise, something I can make up to her anytime she chooses, and you choose to react this way?”

“What makes you think you can just make it up to her?” My tone is emotionless. Empty. “What makes you think she still wants it?”

He ignores my questions. “You shouldn’t make a big deal out of these things. Allie is a child! She will understand. Jesus, Allie’s going to be unbearably overreacting if you keep this up around her!”

I don’t want to argue anymore. The pain of losing Allie is still way too fresh. Nothing Andrew says to me can ever top that.

Andrew is still poised for a challenge, still convinced that I’ll still argue back and beg him to make things right. “Don’t just stare at me like that, tell me where my daughter—”

“If you want to see Allie,” I interject, “meet me on our wedding anniversary. Three days from now. And I will allow you to see her.”