I ignored her.
I had spent years being silent.
This time, I wasn’t explaining myself.
Eric finally spoke.
“What are you talking about, Nina?”
I met his eyes.
I didn’t answer.
I just picked up my purse, stood up slowly, and tucked in my chair like a polite guest.
“I think that’s enough birthday for me,” I said calmly.
Vivien opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.
Her hands were shaking.
She looked around the room as if someone would defend her, but everyone was frozen.
Without another word, I turned and walked toward the door.
Every step I took felt like shedding a heavy coat.
The air outside was cooler than I expected.
For the first time in years, I could hear my own thoughts clearly.
And they were saying, “You’re done being quiet.”
It wasn’t always like this.
When Eric and I first got married, I believed in him more than anyone else.
He had big dreams, talked about starting his own tech company, being his own boss.
I believed every word.
Back then, love made me see him as a visionary, not a man without a plan.
I remember when he came home one day, two months after our wedding, and told me he had quit his job.
“It was toxic,” he said. “I need time to breathe, to build something real.”
I supported him.
I told him, “Take the time you need.”
So, I worked double shifts.
I picked up extra hours at the office and even cleaned up at a nearby cafe in the evenings.
I told myself it was just for a few months.
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