Claire nodded.
“Because for seven years, you always put his needs above everyone else’s.”
Her words hurt because they were true.
I had spent seven years mediating his outbursts.
Smoothing over arguments.
Excusing selfish decisions.
Convincing myself that maintaining peace was more important than confronting what he was becoming.
Brandon expected me to put Mom in a hotel, come home crying, apologize for overreacting, and allow everything to return to normal.
Instead, I filed for divorce.
He was served with the divorce papers on a Tuesday afternoon.
Twenty minutes later, my phone started ringing.
I ignored him.
Thirty minutes after that, he showed up at my corporate office building.
Security refused to let him past the lobby.
Then he sent me a desperate text.
“Are you really going to throw away seven years of marriage over one single argument?”
I stared at the screen for several moments.
Then I typed:
