Page 247 of Invisible Bars
“And I say this with love… no offense to you, Robert. I love you dearly,” Mama Rose added sincerely, glancing his way.
Robert tossed both hands up. “None taken, Ma. Facts is facts.”
Even Renee looked impressed. “Well dang, Ma. You could’ve passed the collection plate after that sermon.”
I caught myself drumming my knuckles against the door—three solid knocks—before my mouth opened against my will.
“Please pass the salt—and a lawyer! She’s emotionally unarmed but spiritually dangerous!”
Robert cleared his throat—not just to shift attention away from me, but because something deeper was sitting heavy on his chest.
“Since we’re all getting things off our chests tonight, I, too, have something to say.”
The entire table turned toward him… even Giselle.
Calmly, he reached into his back pocket, pulled out a folded stack of papers, and slid them across the table to her.
“Giselle,” he spoke with clarity, “I’ve filed for divorce.”
The table fell silent—stiff and breathless—for a single second.
Me, Dessign, and Imanio sat stiffly, our expressions unchanged; we had anticipated that moment. Even Chi, who I assumed had already heard the news from Dessign, appeared unfazed.
But Renee?
Her mouth dropped open in shock, almost as if she was struggling to process what she had just heard.
Meanwhile, Mama Rose, ever the pragmatist, murmured under her breath, “About damn time.”
“Lord, bring the hot sauce! It's getting spicy now!” Renee exclaimed.
I fought to suppress a smile, aware that my reaction could spark a much bigger scene.
Giselle remained transfixed, her gaze locked onto the stack of papers as if they might transform before her eyes.
“You’re... you’re really asking for a divorcepublicly?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, brimming with disbelief and a hint of hurt.
“I wouldn’t say publicly. I mean, this isfamily. It’s not like I’m broadcasting it to strangers. But let’s cut the act, Giselle. You buried our marriage and yourselfprivatelyfor years. You, me, heck, everyone at this table is aware that we haven’t been happy for a long time now. But I stayed out of habit… for the kids, out of fear of what the press would say, and because I thought eventually, the woman I married would come back.
Turns out, she left years ago and left her ego behind to fill her place. Somewhere between the status, the show, and the schemes—you became someone who hurts people to feel whole. We’ve grown into different people. And your treatment of others, particularly Naji tonight, was the final straw.”
Robert locked eyes with her, and the look in his gaze wasn’t fueled by anger. Instead, it radiated pure disappointment—an unsettling detachment.
“In that moment, I realized I was done,” he continued, his voice steady yet heavy with finality. “Not just finished with you, but done with the version of myself that kept choosing you, time and time again.”
Giselle scoffed. “Y-you’re not going anywhere! Stop it! You’re just mad!”
Giselle’s voice was shaky as her wine glass quivered in her grasp, threatening to spill the crimson liquid.
Robert smirked, but his words didn’t smile.
“No, Giselle…you’rejust shocked that I finally chose peace over the facade we’ve been maintaining. Just sign the papers. There’s really no need to drag this out… unless you want to.”
Giselle stood hastily, then snatched the papers off the table and threw them back at him. They fluttered like wounded birds before landing at his feet.
“I’m not entertaining this foolishness!” she snapped. “I’mnotsigning anything!”
Robert bent down slowly, picked the papers up, and tucked them neatly into his jacket pocket like he had all the time in the world.
