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I was gasping, hyperventilating, trying to breathe, trying to move, trying to find the will to walk into that building and sign those papers.
When all of a sudden, he pecked my lips, kissing me for the last time. There was something absolutely devastating about the way his mouth claimed mine.
It was slow.
Torturous.
Each caress of his tongue, push and pull of his lips, was killing me in the process.
The sun started to fall behind the horizon of the hills. Darkness settled upon us. My mouth began quivering, physically feeling his agony and the damage I was causing him. Forever making me fucking hate myself for what we were about to do.
But I had to be strong.
For him…
He deserved that much.
My face frowned as he pecked my lips one last time. There was something about knowing this was the last time I’d feel his mouth, his touch, his breath, his skin, his scent.
Him.
That truly felt like the end of my life and everything I’d ever wanted.
“I’m so sorry, Christian. I’m so fucking sorry.”
He nodded, stepping back while we looked at one another.
In the blink of an eye, his eyes turned cold, detached, violent. “You want this, then you lead the fucking way.”
I grabbed my face, feeling like I was suffocating. I didn’t want this. I swear I didn’t want this, but what other choice did I have? I was doing this for him. After all these years, it was my turn to be his savior. I stood there, desperately trying to catch my bearings, composing myself as best as I could before placing one foot in front of the other and walking into that building.
For the next hour, I blanked out.
It felt as if I was having an out of body experience.
I was there but I wasn’t.
Cognitive dissonance saved my life more times than I cared to remember. I just never imagined my defensive instincts would protect me from him. I came to when I heard him slam his pen on the conference table, realizing that my stare had been glued to the document in front of him the whole time.
His signature was now below mine.
Bright.
Bold.
Standing at attention.
It’s over. Your marriage is over.
At the end of our love story, all Christian said to me was…
“I hope you’re fucking happy. You got what you wanted.”
With that, he turned and left me there.
Alone.
Shattered.
