Page 59 of Beyond our Forever

“We’re going on a trip in June.” The children were silent, their eyes wide as saucers. “We are all going to France, then to Disneyland Paris.”

The words echoed in my head and I couldn’t process it.

At what point did our second honeymoon turn into a family trip?

I thought Bruce and I were on the same page, but not even close. Not the same book, not even the same library.

Igniting the flame?

Fuck that, there was nothing left to rescue.

The flame was well and truly extinguished.

He didn’t see me, not at all! For him, I was a very efficient housekeeper, the mother of his kids. But his lover, his woman? I didn’t think so.

The truth broke my heart. I couldn’t live this way, I couldn’t.

I couldn’t live feeling so alone having him by my side.

That same night I made up my mind. While Bruce was taking a shower, I put a few things in his suitcase, just the necessary.

I had reached my limit.

I was tired of being invisible.

Just being a piece of furniture.

I’d had enough of being ignored, of being considered unworthy of attention or consideration.

I’d reached breaking point, I’d found my voice and I couldn’t silence it again.

Enough.

It was over.

That night I said goodbye to my fairy tale.

The dream had come to an end.

“What’s all this?” Bruce asked, tripping over the packed suitcases when he came out of the bathroom naked as he dried his hair with a towel, and I almost succumbed to his sheer magnetism and attractiveness, to what I still felt for him. Almost. But my anger held me back.

Bruce stared at the suitcases that were waiting for him.

“Love, what’s going on here?” At that moment he finally looked at me, and actually saw me for the first time in what seemed like years.

He stared at the old shirt I’d put on. Yes, the one with the University of Arizona logo that I planned to steal for myself, to keep a part of him with me.

It was all that was left.

Memories.

And I’m young enough to do a life for myself.

“I’ve put what you’ll need in the suitcases,” I said, unable to meet his eyes. “Please don’t start a fight, Bruce. I’m tired and I just want you to go.”

From where I stood I saw his body tense as he stood frozen to the spot. My words had shocked him, more than that, a wrecking ball had hit his chest.

But one thing was certain, I was tired. Not physically, but emotionally. I was exhausted. Depleted. Defeated.

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