“What?”
“If you would still be here if I wasn’t sick.”
“That’s not fair, Theo!”
“Neither was finding out you were planning to leave me.”
Something inside me gave way.
“You’re right.”
“That’s not fair, Theo!”
Theo went silent.
“I was thinking about leaving.”
His face changed.
I kept going.
Not because I wanted to hurt him, but because stopping would be what I had always done: swallow the difficult part; clean the kitchen; answer an email; pretend silence was peace.
His face changed.
“I didn’t hate you,” I said. “I felt invisible, Theo.”
“That’s not true.”
“Do you remember our anniversary?”
He looked down. “I was working.”
“I sat alone for over an hour.”
“I felt invisible, Theo.”
“I apologized.”
“You texted me one word.”
I could still see the untouched place setting and hear myself telling the server, “He’s coming.”
He never did.
That night, I sat in my car and searched for divorce attorneys.
