Page 13 of October
"You don't get to useworkas a shield anymore. You can't hide behind late meetings and glowing screens and yourjobwhile I raise this family like a ghost beside you."
"I haven't abandoned you," he muttered, weakly.
I took a step back. One slow, deliberate step like a woman learning to walk away.
"Yes," I said quietly. "You have. You just did it with your eyes wide open."
He looked stunned. Lost. Like he was seeing me for the first time in years.
"This isn't you," he whispered, like he didn't recognize the woman standing in front of him.
I laughed—low, bitter. "No. It's not."
I took a step back, away from him, from everything we were supposed to be.
"She's gone," I said, voice cracking. "The stupid little bang maid you married? The one who lit up like a child when you so much as looked her way? Who twisted herself into knots to keep you happy, thinking that was love?"
I looked him in the eye. "She died. The day she finally saw the truth."
He blinked, stunned. "October... what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the fact that maybe you wanted a life with me but you never actuallylovedme. You neverchoseme."
His mouth opened, but nothing came out.
"You didn't lose her, Thomas," I continued, my voice trembling. "Youkilledher. Slowly. Deliberately. Every time you picked uphercall while I was setting the table. Every time you looked at me like I was a burden instead of your wife. Every time you made me feel insane for wondering where you were. For asking for your time. For begging—begging—for your affection like some stranger who wandered into your house."
My chest heaved with every breath, but I held his gaze.
I used to think I was the crazy one. That if I just tried harder, you'd love me the way I deserved. But now I know better. And I'm done begging."
"October—what are you saying?" he asked, his voice cracking, like he already knew but couldn't bring himself to believe it.
I looked at him—really looked at him. The man I once worshipped. The man who made me feel like the luckiest girl alive and then turned me into a ghost in my own life.
"I'm saying nothing will change foryou," I said, my voice low but steady. "You'll still have your house. Your children. Your carefully curated image of the perfect man with the perfect life."
He flinched like I'd struck him.
"ButIam done pretending this is a marriage. I'm done chasing crumbs of attention and calling it love. So we'll live like we always have, just with the masks off. Only now, you don't need to lie to me anymore. No more excuses. No more fake apologies. I don't need to hear why you missed dinner, or forgot my birthday, or looked right through me."
I paused, my throat tight.
"And I won't expect you to love me anymore. Or even care."
He just stood there—frozen—his lips parting as if to speak. But before he could form a single word, His phone buzzed.
Once. Then again. I glanced over at the nightstand. The screen lit up. A photo of Laura—just her, smiling sweetly into the camera, lips puckered in a kiss. I reached for the phone and held it out.
"Your mistress is calling."
He flinched.
I set it gently in his hand. "I'm going to take a shower," I said, turning toward the bathroom. "When I get out, I want you in the guest room. Or I will be."
He didn't follow. Didn't argue. Didn't answer. He just stood there, holding his phone like it had burned him and I walked into the bathroom without looking back. The water ran hot.
I let it scald the parts of me that had grown numb.
