I’ve thought about leaving, because I’m afraid my frustration will keep hurting Sutton. I’m afraid I’m becoming someone who makes her feel small. But when I picture a future without her, I don’t feel relieved. Not even a little. I feel like I’m losing my best friend.
I looked up at him.
He didn’t say anything. He just knelt there on the floor in front of my chair, waiting.
I kept reading.
I don’t want to end my marriage. I want to stop treating my wife like someone I’m responsible for managing and start treating her like my partner again. My equal. The woman who used to beat me at Scrabble and make fun of my driving.
My hands were trembling now. The phone shook. I had to steady it against my knee.
The last paragraph was the hardest one to get through.
Sutton deserves to feel loved and respected in her own house. Not handled. Not managed. Loved. I want to become the husband who helps her feel that way again. I just don’t know how to start. That’s what I need help with.
I lowered the letter into my lap.
“Why didn’t you just tell me this?” I said. “Any of this?”
“Because I was afraid you’d only remember the part about wanting to leave.”
I glanced over at the divorce papers on the coffee table.
“Well,” I said. “I found that part anyway.”
He gave me a sad little smile.
“I know.”
I reached down and took his hand.
“Ashton,” I said, “I don’t need you to pretend everything is fine when it isn’t. I never needed that. I’m not made of glass. I was in a car accident, I didn’t turn into a china teacup.”
“And I need to stop believing I can handle every single problem by myself,” he said. “Rebecca’s been telling me that for four months. I guess it took you finding a suitcase for me to actually hear it.”
We sat there together quietly for a while. His hand in mine. The light from the streetlamp outside coming through the front window. I could see it. A soft yellow glow on the floor.
Then I said, “We have to stop hiding important things from each other. Both of us. Me too. I hid this from you for two weeks.”
“For chicken parmesan,” he said.
“For chicken parmesan.”
He nodded.
“Agreed,” he said. “No more hiding.”
Lila Hart is a dedicated Digital Archivist and Research Specialist with a keen eye for preserving and curating meaningful content. At TheArchivists, she specializes in organizing and managing digital archives, ensuring that valuable stories and historical moments are accessible for generations to come.
Lila earned her degree in History and Archival Studies from the University of Edinburgh, where she cultivated her passion for documenting the past and preserving cultural heritage. Her expertise lies in combining traditional archival techniques with modern digital tools, allowing her to create comprehensive and engaging collections that resonate with audiences worldwide.
At TheArchivists, Lila is known for her meticulous attention to detail and her ability to uncover hidden gems within extensive archives. Her work is praised for its depth, authenticity, and contribution to the preservation of knowledge in the digital age.
Driven by a commitment to preserving stories that matter, Lila is passionate about exploring the intersection of history and technology. Her goal is to ensure that every piece of content she handles reflects the richness of human experiences and remains a source of inspiration for years to come.