“And what’s the problem with me seeing another women? At least they're not jealous lunatics like you.” Then, he pushed me roughly and said, “Go get you mother and ask her to bring those berries out. I can still pretend that this isn’t happened. Otherwise, don’t blame me if I get rough. Esther has been feeling unwell lately and she said she just wants to eat that. I won't forgive you if you get in my way,” said my husband with a snort.
Anger filled my mind as I stepped forward and delivered a hard slap across his face, “My mother has been very good to you, how could tell her to do that!”
My slap seemed to ignite his anger. “Can’t you be over with it? Yes, she's been good to me. So what? I never forced her to. She did it of her own will.”
“Now, where’s the damn berries?” he yelled.
I didn't say anything, just holding the death certificate in my hand. He seemed to have reached the end of his patience and stepped forward to snatch the death certificate from my hands, viciously tearing it into tiny pieces.
He glared at me, frustration and impatience etched on his face. With a sudden burst of rage, he lunged forward and snatched the death certificate from my grasp, ripping it viciously into tiny shreds. The pieces of paper fell to the ground like confetti.
“I'm so sick of your act!” he spat, his words dripping with venom. He slammed the door shut and left.
Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision as I gathered all the torn pieces of paper. Each shred felt like a piece of my shattered heart, fragmented by the harsh reality I couldn't escape. With trembling hands, I painstakingly pieced the death certificate back together, methodically aligning the edges and securing them with tape. As I worked, a mixture of grief, anger, and determination fueled my movements.
Once the certificate was restored as best as I could manage, I placed it on the living room table, alongside the divorce agreement I had prepared long ago. But I wouldn't let him walk away unscathed. I wouldn't let him believe he could manipulate and deceive without consequence.
“I won't let you go away with this, Lucian Robinson,” I whispered to the empty room,
This marriage had been my wishful thinking all along.