“We can fix this.”
“It’s not something to fix.”
“Then what is it?”
“Respect.”
She pressed her lips together.
“You’re overreacting.”
“Maybe.”
I paused.
“But I’d rather overreact on the right side.”
“And you’re throwing everything away for this?”
I thought for a second.
“No.”
She blinked.
“No?”
“I’m just accepting that it’s already over.”
That was the moment everything broke.
“Over?” she repeated.
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
I glanced toward the kitchen.
“The day you stopped seeing the people in this house.”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
“One hour,” I repeated.
This time… she didn’t argue.
She turned.
Walked away.
Soon, the house filled with the sound of drawers.
Closets.
Suitcases.
My mom was shaking.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I sat beside her.
Held her hands.
“I am.”
“I didn’t want to cause this…”
“You didn’t cause anything.”
I paused.
“You revealed it.”
An hour later, Emily came back.
Suitcase in hand.
Different face.
Colder.
“You’ll regret this,” she said.
“Maybe.”
“You’re throwing away a marriage.”
I looked at her calmly.
“No.”
“I’m saving myself from it.”
“All this… over food?”
I stepped closer.
“No.”
“Over what the food revealed.”
She looked away.
For the first time.
“Is that it?” she asked.
I thought.
Then nodded.
“That’s it.”