His expression hardened again.

“You’re abandoning me during the worst period of my life.”

I lifted the suitcase.

“I’m leaving because you spent eighteen years creating the worst period of mine.”

The silence that followed felt almost sacred.

6. Learning How To Live Again

The divorce took eleven exhausting months.

Brandon fought every step.

He delayed paperwork.

He filed complaints.

He made accusations.

He sent endless messages that alternated between apologies and threats.

Some emails promised change.

Others promised revenge.

Occasionally he blamed alcohol.

Sometimes childhood trauma.

Sometimes workplace stress.

Sometimes me.

Never himself.

Meanwhile, I rented a small apartment near Goodale Park.

The first few months felt strange.