Leaving Behind My Nine-year Marriage Novels & Stories

Everything was covered in a thin, gray film of neglect. He walked inside. His steps were unsteady, as if he were walking on clouds that could dissolve at any moment. My memory went back to that day. It was our seventh wedding anniversary. That evening, I had cooked a full meal myself and opened a bottle of his favorite red wine. I was getting ready to celebrate another major deal he had secured for the company. Beaming with happiness, I raised my glass to clink it with him. However, with a sharp flick of his wrist, he poured the wine onto the floor.

"Christine, don't leave me. I know I was wrong. I realized it too late. Let me love you. Give me a chance to make things right." But I stayed still, unmoved. "It's too late. I'm tired." His brows furrowed as he stepped closer. "Eight years ago, you crawled into my bed, got pregnant, and married me. And now you want to walk away? Is this some kind of push-and-pull game?" I stared at him in disbelief. I'd thought he finally understood. But the way he saw me… was still just as selfish as ever.

" I laughed. "Marcus, you think way too highly of yourself. I earned my position at the investment bank and built my own career. I don't need anyone's support. I looked at him and continued, "As for marriage, I don't need a man who treats me like a tool. I don't need a man who expects me to understand while he takes care of his ex-girlfriend. "Marcus Harrison," I said, enunciating each word. "It's not about the last chance you've given me. It's—"

"Adrian, listen to me! Don't you want the core technology anymore?" Before I finished, one of Evelyn's bridesmaids grabbed my hair and yanked me aside. Evelyn slapped me so hard that her wedding ring cut my forehead. Blood poured down my face. Adrian's voice was cold. "Take care of it. The company is in transition. I don't want people like her affecting things." Then, he hung up. Hearing the hollow echo after the call ended, I felt my heart sink into despair. Back when Adrian was pursuing me, he poured all his heart into loving and protecting me.

“Nine years of telling myself there was something I missed, some way I could have done it differently, some version of the marriage I failed to make work. And the answer was always that it was not something I missed. He knew. He chose.” She breathed. Mac put his hand over hers in her lap. She looked at the garden. She sat with it for a long time. Not falling apart. Not performing anything. Just sitting with a truth that had always been the truth and was now written down in the man’s own hand and she was holding it in her lap on a Friday morning outside a courthouse on the day the marriage was dissolved. Then she stood up. She put the folder in her bag. She turned to Mac. “You said you were t

he asked, his voice quieter now. A bitter smile curled my lips. “No. My husband has already divorced me. I have nowhere else to go, so I suppose I don’t have a reason to leave anymore.” The words tasted sour.I had been giving my marriage my all for five years, believing that if I stayed with it and let him take advantage of me whatever he pleased, he would finally reciprocate my love. Despite my best efforts, I ended up failing. But I wouldn’t cry over Jeff Ortega. Not anymore. The moment I walked out of the Ortega residence, I swore I would never shed another tear for him. It simply wasn’t worth it.

So he really never loved me. A few drops landed on the screen. I turned off my phone and sat in the dark until late night. Countdown: three hours. I finished packing everything. Countdown: two hours. I cut him out of every photo. The album only had me left. Countdown: one hour. I laid the dissolution agreement neatly on the table. I thought about leaving some words for him. Changed my mind. I could only say it in my heart: "Damon, I loved you for ten years. Loving someone for ten years is hard. But I finally chose to let go."

She stopped numbering at 99. I locked eyes with her. She was wearing a wedding dress. "I should have left earlier," she said. I nodded. "Still, it's not too late now." The moment I boarded the plane, I left behind the weight of all the grievances I had recorded, page after page. I threw myself into my studies, forgetting everything else. At times, being alone in a foreign country did feel lonely, but unlike Nina, I didn't go looking for someone to talk to. Instead, I used all that extra time to better myself.

Making me the ultimate bad guy in his eyes, so four years into our marriage we were in a bad spot due to all this family drama. I was twenty-nine when everything went to hell in a hand basket and if it hadn’t been for that pocket watch I started wearing all the time, I would have died.

The final clip was the video I had recorded before leaving. “Dante, I can’t believe we’ve known each other for ten years.” “Seven years of loving you. Three years of marriage.” “I really thought that if I stayed long enough, you would eventually love me a little too.” “But some things can’t be earned no matter how hard you try.” “So I’m letting you go.” “And I’m finally letting myself go too.” I fell silent for a moment. Then I said only one last thing. “Dante Valieri, we’re divorced.”