For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to admire him—the gentle curve of his jawline, the quiet strength in his posture. But that love, as deep and consuming as it was, had only ever brought me misery. He had been forced to marry me and perhaps that was the root of it all.
A sob bubbled up from my chest as I whispered, “Brian, let’s divorce.”
Even in his sleep, his brows furrowed as if my words had reached him. But I couldn’t stay any longer. I needed to reclaim whatever dignity I had left. Carefully, I slipped out of bed and walked away.
***
Three days passed in silence. I ignored every call from Brian and focused solely on my plan. I stayed in a hotel, waiting for the divorce papers to arrive, drowning my thoughts in the anonymity of the quiet room. Eventually, I turned off my phone, unwilling to face anything that reminded me of him.
Then, the unexpected happened. The police knocked on my door and behind them stood Brian—disheveled, unshaven and desperate. Before I could speak, he pulled me into his arms, holding me as if letting go would shatter him.
For a brief moment, it felt like old times.
I had once dreamed of being held this tightly, cradled against his chest, where his scent—now mixed with alcohol and regret—wrapped around me. But dreams and reality are cruelly different.
The heart longs for what the mind cannot accept. And in that moment, even though his touch brought comfort, it couldn’t erase the truth.
Our love was broken beyond repair.
Brian’s voice trembled as he spoke, his usually calm demeanor shattered.
“Elise, do you even understand how terrified I was when I thought something might happen to you?”
His words hung in the air, heavy but strangely hollow.
“How would I explain it to your father if something happened to you?”
Of course, I thought bitterly. His concern wasn’t for me—it was for his promise to my father. He didn’t love me. He never did. He was just fulfilling an obligation.
The police chimed in, their words a quiet reminder of societal expectations.
“Husbands and wives should try to understand each other. Your husband is worried about you.”
Worried. The word echoed in my mind like a cruel joke. He wasn’t worried about me; he was worried about breaking his word. For Brian, promises were everything. I would never be more than that—a duty to fulfill.