Novel & Cerita The Wife Who Walked Away

I weep for that foolish belief that love is sometimes born of the everyday, that it can grow where nothing was ever sown. I am tired. My phone vibrates. I ignore it at first. Then I look. And the screen explodes in my face. Divorce petition initiated by MARIUS D. via e-Divorce. Not a word. Not a call. Not even a message. Just that. A notification. A cold, impersonal sentence. I stand too quickly. The chair tips, falls. I stagger. People turn their heads. But I don't care. I want to flee. To get out.

When Ethan Lane came back from his business trip, he pulled two dolls out of his suitcase. One was pink, the other blue. His daughter, Nina Lane's eyes lit up for a second when she saw the pink one. But instead of reaching for it, she glanced over at Crystal Shaw, Vivian Shaw's daughter. That five-year-old girl had already stretched out her hand for the pink doll. So Nina pulled her hand back and said quietly, "I'll take the blue one." I froze. Nina's loved pink ever since she was little. Her backpack is pink, her water bottle is pink, even her hair clips are always pink. But the moment Crystal was in the picture, she stepped aside. Later, when Ethan drove Vivian and Crystal home, I ask

Divorced. She had been a wife for nine years. She had been a separated woman for six weeks. She had been in courtrooms and lawyers’ offices and on pavements and in storage rooms and in her own kitchen fighting for the thing that should never have had to be fought for. And now at two in the morning on a Sunday it was done. Executed documents. A stamp. A formality. “Are you okay,” Ruth said. “Yes,” Cloe said. “I’m better than okay. I just need a moment to let it land.”

“N-NO!” “You resist one more time, I’d have to cuff you, love.” My body stiffened as I angrily glared at him. He couldn’t be serious. But the swirls of eyes were more than serious. He’d cuff me rendering me helpless once again. My eyes reflected with intense fury and rage. Wife they call me and yet treat me like a whore. Use me whenever their heart desire. “I am your wife!” I cried angry tears rushing down my eyes. Ralph looked amused shaking his head. “Not a whore!”

“She meant nothing. She was never your wife in the first place.” Adrian’s eyes darkened, subtle, but clear. Not anger. Something deeper. “She may not be my wife in name,” he said quietly, each word steady, “but she’s the only wife I will ever have in my heart. Remember that.” He stepped closer, not touching, but close enough to make her tense. Then he turned and walked away, heading straight to his study. The door shut behind him with a sharp, final click. Alessia stayed where she was, her fingers curling at her sides. Anger burned beneath her calm face.

Maddalena said, folding her napkin slowly, “she’s your wife. Which makes her my business.” That did it. I pushed my chair back. Not as loud as Sarah’s, but firm. Final. I stood. “I’m done with this.” “You’re only done because you saw her pain.” I shook my head. “I’m done because I should’ve stopped it before it got this far.” She didn’t stop me when I walked away. I left the dining room, my steps faster now. I moved through the halls, past the soft light and silent rooms, past the staff pretending not to listen. I climbed the stairs two at a time.

Johan shook his head, very unhappy about getting divorce papers from Caroline. "Johan-" Victoria snapped. "I said no! We can talk about this. You're still my wife, Caroline. Do you think it's over just because of a piece of paper?" Johan grabbed one of Caroline's wrists. "Just sign it, Johan." Victoria stepped forward and snatched the envelope from Caroline's hand. "She finally realized that she doesn't belong in this family." "I'm done. Sign or not, I'm leaving," Caroline said firmly. "I no longer belong to you, Johan."

“He?” “My husband.” Her voice cracked on the word. “I ran out of an abusive marriage. I didn’t take anything, just left. I’ve been walking for hours. I can’t go to the police, I can’t—please, I shouldn’t be disturbing you. I’ll leave now.” She tried to stand, but she stumbled, her leg giving out almost immediately.

I thought I had the upper-hand teasing her, but the timid mice I thought was within my grasp wasn’t as timid as I thought she was. “Mind your business.” She whispered and walked away before I realized what was going on. She walked away. She actually walked away. I stared at her retreating figure more than a little dumbfounded. In all the years we were married, not once had she spoken out of place, much less do so and walk away.