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“You sound like your grandma,” he fumes, narrowing his eyes at me. He never liked it when I cursed or used crude language. Fuck that.
“Don’t turn this around on me. You are the reason we’re separated. You’re the reason you’re holding divorce papers. But do you know what? You probably did me a favor,” I say, softening just a little. “We were on different paths. I can see that now. We wanted different things.”
“How is wanting you so bad?” he whines. “I just want you.”
“Well, I no longer want you. I’m not trying to hurt you, Chris, but you need to leave.”
“This isn’t over,” he retorts, glancing at the giant standing next to me once more.
“It’s very much over.” I hope he can hear the finality in my voice.
“But I love you,” he whimpers, his eyes turning glassy.
I can only stare at him. I used to be able to say those words in return, but over the last year, it became harder and harder. Whether he changed, I changed, or a little of both, I finally realized that I fell out of love with my husband. It wasn’t anything he did, per se, but something that gradually happened over time. We were too different. As much as I tried to make it work, I just couldn’t do it anymore.
And finding that document under our bed was the final nail in the coffin.
A new wave of anger washes over me as I take in his haggard appearance. His clothes looks wrinkled and I’m pretty sure there’s a stain on the end of his tie. His hair has seen better days and his nails look a little on the long side, like he’s missed one of his monthly manicure appointments he insisted he keep. Frankly, he looks like hell. But that’s not my fault or for me to worry about.
Not anymore.
“Go home, Chris.”
“You’re my home,” he whispers.
“Not anymore.” I hold the door, my grip turning white against the wood.
Chris glances at Linkin once more, a snide look crossing his tired eyes. Linkin doesn’t seem fazed in the least, leaning casually against the doorjamb as if the entire exchange has bored him. Or maybe just that Chris has bored him.
That makes two of us.
Chris steps forward, his intentions clear. He leans forward as if to kiss my cheek, when a growl erupts from the man standing beside me. My soon-to-be ex-husband must reconsider his intended display of affection and quickly stands up straight, taking a retreating step. Honestly, the thought of feeling his lips on my skin makes me shiver.
And not in the way I shiver when I think of Linkin’s lips on my body.
“Good night, Alexis. We’ll talk soon,” he says, glancing once more to Linkin before returning his eyes to me. They’re pleading and full of sorrow, but I trample down a reaction. My reaction would be knee-jerk anyway and just cause him more pain.
That alone says something. Even though he’s hurt me more than I ever imagined anyone could, I don’t want to cause him any more pain. Our marriage might be over and it might be the result of something completely unforgiveable that he did, but that doesn’t mean I want him to suffer.
I just want him to go away.
His shoulders are hunched as he makes his way to the elevator. Resolve fills my body as I watch him go, confirming that he just wasn’t the one for me. Not if he can so easily do what he did, killing the only dream I’ve ever had in the process.
And killing me too.
But I refuse to let him keep me down.
In fact, I don’t need him, or any man.
“Does he come by often?” Linkin says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“No. In fact, both times you’ve been here.”
“Good,” he smirks, those chocolate eyes lighting up with excitement. “I like being here, him seeing me with you.”
“I’m not with you.”
“Not yet.”
