I nodded stiffly.“Yes.You’re free now.”
This time I did exactly as he wanted—I let him go and handed him his freedom.
As he left,he turned and said,“The study hasn’t been cleaned in months.Since you’re here—why not tidy it up?”The heavy click of the door echoed in my ears.
Xavier’s study had always been off-limits.Not a speck of dust.Only he knew where the spare key was,which drawer held the wipes,and how he liked the edges of papers perfectly aligned.
When I reached his desk,a framed photo caught my eye—Vanessa’s smile behind the glass,staring back at me.I turned and noticed my own photo in the wastebasket by the cabinet:face down,its edges crumpled like trash.
I pressed my lips together;the smile didn’t reach my eyes.It felt like a knife.
Having secured his signature,I looked around the cozy home I had built with my own hands and memories swelled.My gaze finally settled on the wedding photo in the living room—one he polished and displayed.Seeing Xavier’s strained smile in the frame felt unbearable.I took the picture down and threw it into the trash downstairs.
I spent the rest of the night clearing out our marital things.