“You wanted to leave after Christmas?” I said, stepping past him to grab my coat from the hallway hook. My bags were already packed and sitting in the trunk of my car. “You don’t have to wait. I’m leaving tonight. You have until the end of the week to pack your things before the house goes on the market.
Merry early Christmas.”
I walked out the front door, leaving the roses on the counter and my soon-to-be ex-husband standing motionless in the living room, surrounded by the legal wreckage of the life he threw away. I got into my car, started the engine, and for the first time in three weeks, I finally took a deep, unrestricted breath.
The silence in the car wasn’t the heavy, deceptive silence of that 2 AM night. It was the beautiful, echoing sound of pure freedom.
