I should have heard the car pull into the driveway. I should have been more careful. But in the haze of guilt and heat, I lost myself, and the world outside ceased to exist.
When the door crashed open, my breath froze in my chest. I sat bolt upright, the sheet clinging to my bare skin like a thin shield against the storm I knew was about to erupt. There he stood, my husband, his face twisted with an emotion I couldn't quite place-a mixture of rage, disbelief, and betrayal.
His eyes flicked between me and his brother, lying beside me in the bed we had shared for years. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. My mind screamed at me to say something, to explain, to apologize, to do anything. But no words came. Instead, I sat there paralyzed as the silence between us grew heavier, louder than the pounding of my heart.
And then, like a dam breaking, I couldn't believe what my husband did next. Like a dam breaking, my husband charged.
Not at me at his brother.
The room exploded into chaos. My husband showed a ferocity I had never seen before. I couldn't hear their shouting over the ringing in my ears. My heart was a runaway train,
careening wildly as I scrambled out of the bed, clutching the sheet to my chest like it could somehow shield me from the mess I had created. Through it all, I stood frozen in the corner, watching the man I loved-had loved-unravel before my eyes. And yet, some dark, shameful part of me whispered that I deserved this.
My husband’s voice was hoarse when he spoke, shaking with an anger that burned hotter than any flame, "I never want to see either of you again”. The words slammed into me harder than any punch. And then he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind. The guilt was suffocating. My chest felt tight, like I was being crushed from the inside out. I stumbled toward the bed, the sheet still wrapped around me, and sank to the edge, staring at the floor. "Leave," | whispered, as I heard movement behind me-him getting to his feet.
Without a word, he gathered his things and left. The door clicked shut behind him, and I was alone.
And then, the weight of what I had lost began to sink in. My husband was gone. And I had no one to blame but myself.
What would you do have done?
