That night, I slept in the garage unable to face our bed. By morning, my phone showed seventeen missed calls from Derek. I finally answered the eighteenth.
"Where have you been?" he demanded. "I waited all night yesterday. I even hired the best chefs for our anniversary dinner. I thought we could finally be intimate."
"Go celebrate with Tara instead," I said coldly. "I'm sure she'll appreciate your efforts more than me."
"Don't start with your insecurities again. I've prepared everything for us to finally consummate this marriage."
"Save your performance. I'm meeting with my lawyer today. Divorce papers will be ready soon."
"Divorce me? You can't—"
"Goodbye Derek." Before he could respond, I ended the call.
I left the house and jumped into my car without looking back. My phone kept buzzing with Derek's calls and messages, but I ignored every single one.
The divorce lawyer's office was quiet when I walked in. I slapped down my ID and marriage certificate, got the paperwork, and filled everything out in record time. The final document awaited only Derek's signature, and then I'd be free of his pathetic obsession with Tara.