It was a promise of the future I planned to build for you, the life I wanted to give you.”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. For once in her life, Melanie was speechless.
“But after what you said tonight?” I met her wide, tear-filled eyes. “I have no desire to give it to you.
And no desire to live in it with you.”
Her face crumpled.
“Wait, no—” she gasped, reaching for me with trembling hands. The facade of the perfect wife finally cracked completely.
I stepped back, out of her reach. “It’s too late.
Tonight I saw the true cost of living up to your standards, and how quickly you turned on me when you thought I wasn’t able to do so. I’m filing for divorce.”
The moment I said it, a weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying lifted off my chest. Years of trying to be enough, of bending myself to fit her expectations, of swallowing my pride all fell away.
“Wait, we can talk about this!” she begged, voice cracking.
“I was just upset! I didn’t mean it! Please, you can’t do this to me!”
I shook my head, stepping past her.
I had spent years giving her everything I could, and she had spent years proving it was never enough.
As I walked away, her cries turned to sobs, then wails, then silence.
My footsteps echoed through the house we’d shared, past the memories we’d made, and toward a future that suddenly felt lighter, clearer, more real than anything we’d built together.
Source: amomama
