Part 6

“Please don't make this decision tonight.”

But I had spent months making it.

And when Evelyn repeated the question, I looked directly into my husband's eyes.

“Yes,” I said.

Then Adrian whispered something I had never expected to hear from him.

“If you leave me, Mara, I don't know who I am without you.”

PART 4: The Choice He Couldn't Undo

For one terrible moment, I wanted to put my arms around Adrian and promise that I would never leave him.

It was an instinct built through nine years of marriage.

When his businesses faltered, I comforted him.

When his past haunted him, I listened.

When he struggled with decisions, I helped him find answers.

But somewhere along the way, I had become responsible for holding together a man who no longer noticed when I was falling apart.

I ended the call with Evelyn.

Adrian stood in front of me, waiting.

“You don't know who you are without me?” I repeated.

He nodded.

“Then perhaps it's time you found out.”

His face twisted.

“Mara, please.”

I moved toward the window.

Outside, the driveway lights illuminated the roses he had planted for our fifth anniversary.

He had chosen white roses because I once told him they reminded me of my mother's garden.

I wondered when he had last noticed them.

“Do you know what I did on Saturday night?” I asked.

Adrian looked down.

“You waited for me.”

“I wore the dress you bought me.”

His eyes filled.

“I set the table for two.”

“Mara.”

“I even asked the chef to prepare the dessert you love.”

He swallowed.

“And when you didn't come home, I told myself you had a good reason.”

“You know I did.”

“Yes.”

I turned.

“And that's why I kept blaming myself for feeling hurt.”

He stared at me.

“I thought maybe I was selfish for wanting my husband on our anniversary.”

“You weren't.”

“I thought maybe loving you meant never asking you to choose me when someone else was suffering.”

His shoulders sagged.

“I never wanted you to feel that way.”

“But you allowed it to happen.”

He lowered his head.

I walked back to the dining table.

“The worst part isn't that you went to Sofia.”

He looked up.

“It's that you never once wondered what your absence was doing to me.”

Tears slipped down his face.

I had seen Adrian angry, exhausted, triumphant, and devastated by business losses.

I had rarely seen him cry.

For years, I would have done almost anything to prevent it.

Now I understood that his pain did not automatically require me to surrender my decision.

“I'll change,” he said.

“I hope you do.”

“For us.”

I shook my head.

“For yourself.”

He moved toward me.

“Don't say that.”

I picked up the wedding ring.

For a moment, I remembered the courthouse outside Lancaster and the young man who had promised to spend his life choosing me.

I remembered our first apartment, our terrible cooking experiments, and the mornings when we stayed in bed talking about places we wanted to visit.

Those memories were real.

So was the loneliness that followed.

I placed the ring in its small velvet box.

Adrian watched as though I were closing the lid on his entire life.

“Where will you go?”

“I've arranged somewhere to stay.”

“For how long?”

“I don't know.”

He stepped back.

“Is there someone else?”

The question stunned me.

“No.”

“Then why won't you give me another chance?”

I looked at him.

“Because you keep searching for a reason that makes my leaving easier for you to understand.”

His expression changed.

“You want me to be angry at another man, because then you wouldn't have to face what happened between us.”

He said nothing.

“There is nobody else, Adrian.”

I picked up the final envelope.

“I just don't want to keep disappearing inside this marriage.”

He sat heavily in the nearest chair.

For several minutes, neither of us spoke.

Then his phone rang again.

Sofia.

He stared at the screen.

I watched him reach for it, then stop.

“Answer,” I said.

He shook his head.

“Not now.”

I looked at him carefully.

“Why?”

“Because my wife needs me.”

Something painful moved through my chest.

Those were the words I had wanted to hear three nights earlier.

But hearing them now felt like receiving flowers after a funeral.

“Adrian, I'm not asking you to abandon someone who may still be frightened.”

He looked confused.

“Then what are you asking?”

“I'm asking you to stop using another person's needs as an excuse for ignoring the person standing in front of you.”

His phone fell silent.

He looked at the screen again.

Then he called Leo.

“Make sure Sofia has everything she needs,” he instructed.

Leo answered something I couldn't hear.

“Keep the security team in place, and tell her Daniel's doctors will update her directly.”

He paused.

“No, I'm not coming back tonight.”

When he ended the call, he looked almost relieved.

“There.”

I stared at him.

“There what?”

“I chose you.”

The words struck me like a physical blow.

He had finally done what I wanted.

And still, it was too late.

“Adrian, you shouldn't have needed divorce papers to remember how to be my husband.”

He looked away.

I took my overnight bag from the hallway closet.

He stood immediately.

“Where are you going?”

“To the apartment.”

“What apartment?”

“One I've arranged.”

His eyes widened.

“You really planned to leave?”

“Yes.”

He moved toward the front door.

“Mara, don't go.”

I stopped.

He was not blocking me aggressively, but his desperation filled the hallway.

“Please,” he whispered.

I looked at him for a long moment.

“Move aside.”

He hesitated.

Then he stepped away.

I opened the door.

Cold night air touched my face.

Behind me, Adrian spoke.

“Tell me what I can do.”

I held the door handle tightly.

For years, that question would have meant everything.