Husband In The Shadows - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

After I left, Nydia stood at the complex entrance, looking unsure.
Back then, I never would've gotten along with someone like Jefferson.
She probably thought I'd expose our relationship or try to make Jefferson jealous.
But today, I didn't. I even chatted with him like we were friends.
That unsettled her. She didn't want me to get too close to Jefferson.
She knew all my past talk about divorce was because of Jefferson. She knew how much it bothered me seeing them together.
We'd had some nasty fights over it. Her favorite line was, "Stop overthinking. Not everything is dirty like you imagine."
But after hearing Jefferson talk today, I realized I'd underestimated how deep their bond really was.
After four years of marriage, I knew Nydia better than she realized.
She still loved Jefferson.
Maybe she never stopped.
In the taxi, as I watched Nydia's figure shrink in the distance, my phone buzzed.
Nydia had sent a message. [Our fourth anniversary is coming up. Let's take a trip.]
Before, I would've gotten excited about something like that. But now? I felt nothing.
I had already gathered plenty of evidence for the divorce. It was time to move forward with the lawsuit. Two weeks had passed since I filed, and by the time the court made it official, the waiting period would barely matter anymore.
I chose to file for divorce in court on purpose. I didn't want to drag this out any longer. That marriage had never been right, not from the start.
Nydia probably noticed my silence. She messaged again: [Let's go to the beach tomorrow. That's where you proposed, remember? Wanna go back and see it?]
I had my phone in hand, fingers on the keyboard. And yet, not a single word came out.
After a while, as I looked out at the city lights through the car window, I finally typed: [If I were drowning, would you save me first?]
Nydia replied playfully: [Is that even a question? Of course I would—every time.]
I let out a bitter laugh in the back seat.
Last time, outside that bar, she'd rather cuddle up with Jefferson than even glance at me.
At the hospital, she said she'd look after me, but she spent the whole time in Jefferson's room.
On my birthday, she didn't show up—busy helping Jefferson with his divorce.
Another time, Jefferson had stomach issues in the middle of the night, and she ran off to the hospital even though it wasn't her shift.
For all four years of our marriage, I tried to push Jefferson out of our lives.
But I never stood a chance.
In the end, I was the one left looking like a fool.
Whenever I lost my temper at home, she'd act like I was crazy, like I was the one ruining everything.
She slowly wore away every bit of love I had left.
The next day, just like I expected, Nydia didn't show up at the appointed time.
I called her. She sounded apologetic. "I'm sorry, Emerson. Jefferson's ex-wife showed up again and made a scene. He got hurt. I'll make it up to you later, okay?"
She didn't even ask—it sounded more like she was just informing me.
I just said, "Take care of him."
After I hung up, I stood by the sea, thinking how stupid I'd been to keep believing her.
Walking that beach alone didn't feel bad.
Honestly, it felt like the perfect way to say goodbye to everything.
This was Nydia's last chance. She would never get another.
That afternoon, the court called. They said the divorce papers had been sent to Nydia.
The distance was short. She would probably have it by tomorrow.
Back home, I packed the rest of my things.
I asked the judge, "If she signs and agrees, we won't need a hearing, right?"
The judge confirmed it.
I let out a breath I'd been holding for years.
From this moment on, I was done loving Nydia. It was a fresh start.
That night, lying on the couch, I stared at the ceiling as I was surprised at how quickly time slipped by.
The countdown had begun. I wondered if Nydia would feel relieved when she saw the divorce papers.
On the last day, I cleaned up the old house and took down all the sticky notes from the fridge.
Back when Nydia's shifts were all over the place, I'd planned her meals with care. But not anymore.
Twelve hours left. I took a nap and woke up to the sun. For the first time in years, I felt light and free.
Six hours left. I found our old proposal video on my computer and deleted it.
Five hours left, I burned the love letters I'd written her. Every single one.
Four hours left. Nydia called me, asking what I'd sent her. I just said it was important, and she would know when she opened it.
Three hours left. I quit my job.
In the final hour, I swept the floors, handed the house keys to the realtor, and grabbed my bags. Time to leave the city.
I fell in love with this place because of Nydia. Now I was leaving because of her.
In the end, we got divorced.
From then on, I was no longer in her way.