I almost laughed.
That line had once worked.
“Get a job,” I told him. “You seem talented at creating stories.”
Then I hung up.
The following months were strangely peaceful.
The divorce moved quickly because the evidence was overwhelming.
Daniel called.
His lawyer called.
Everyone wanted me to feel guilty.
I didn’t.
What surprised me most was that I didn’t miss him.
I missed the man I thought existed.
Not the one who had actually been standing beside me all those years.
With my attorney handling the divorce, I turned my attention to something I had ignored for too long:
My own future.
For years, my ambitions had taken a back seat to Daniel’s.
His career.
His dreams.
His plans.
Now I finally asked myself what I wanted.
The answer came slowly.
I wanted to build something that belonged to me.
Not inherited.
Not shared.
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