Page 135 of Divorced from Number Thirty-Eight

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But me…I need to let them all go, give her the space to build her life without the albatross of me hanging around her neck.

I can handle being separate, handle letting her go.

Because she’ll have them.

Because letting them go for her is…bearable.

Barely.

“I have to,” I whisper.

And then I step back.

The loss of her in my arms almost breaks me. But I manage to retreat another pace. Then another.

Until there are five feet between us.

Ten.

Until I’m at the porch, at the door, until I’m forcing my feet to keep moving even though I can see her in the reflection in the glass.

When she falls to her knees, I almost break.

But that will only prolong this torture.

So, I turn the handle, push inside…

And then I walk away from the only woman I’ve ever loved.

Forty-Four

Faye

I sit in the back yard, tears streaming down my cheeks for what feels like an eternity.

Waiting.

Hoping.

But Gray doesn’t come back.

Not as the sun sets. Not as the moon rises and my tears finally cease.

Not even when the morning sky begins to lighten on the eastern horizon.

It’s the sound of construction next door that finally snaps me out of my haze, and…I make my way on stiff, frozen legs inside.

It’s quiet.

Silent.

The house feels empty, hollow…or maybe that’s just me.

“No,” I whisper, clenching my hand into a fist at my side.

I won’t be the same Faye I’ve always been in the past.

I won’t accept someone else deciding what my life will be, won’t accept that this is all I can have—a taste of beauty only to have it ripped away from me because someone thinks they know better.

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