My father-in-law slammed his hand on the table. "No one knows a daughter better than her father. For Caroline to demand a divorce, you must have committed an unforgivable sin." He pointed a shaking finger at my nose. "If you don't give us an explanation today, don't even think about walking out that door!"
The relatives quickly fell in line.
"Harrison, you're sick," a cousin sneered. "My cousin is so gentle and sensible. What could you possibly be dissatisfied with?"
"People used to say you were a 'warm man,' emotionally stable," another relative scoffed. "In my view, you're a ticking time bomb."
"A hypocrite. I bet he commits domestic violence."
Their gazes were heavy with contempt, their words sharp enough to draw blood.
I stood there, listening to their accusations, fighting the urge to laugh. The irony was suffocating.
On the surface, Caroline appeared gentle and sensible. But behind closed doors? She was the powder keg. Her emotions were as volatile as a summer storm.
When she was in a good mood, she was passionate. But when the mood shifted, it was a nightmare. If she woke up with insomnia, she ensured I suffered too—biting my arm, shaking me, doing whatever it took to keep me from sleeping. Once, when I couldn't find the specific gourmet cake she craved, she threw a tantrum that lasted hours and locked me out of the bedroom.
Every time, she would eventually offer a quiet "sorry," and I would forgive her.
I loved her. Because of that love, I yielded. I swallowed my pride. I molded her into the image of a good wife, smoothing over her rough edges with my own patience.
I never expected that five years of devotion would lose to a single sentence of provocation from her shallow best friend.
I took a deep breath.
"We don't have a conflict," I said, my voice steady and devoid of the apology they demanded. "She simply thinks I'm no longer worthy of her."
The accusations died in their throats. The room fell silent as everyone turned to Caroline, waiting for her denial.
"That's right."
She didn't flinch. Her chin lifted in defiance. "My best friend is right. Women should marry up. We should always look for something better."