You said today you married me because I was convenient! So what? He shrugged. Is that so bad?
Are you seriously wearing that old dressing gown again? Maxim shot Sophia a look of disgust as he fastened his shirt cuff, as though tightening armor before battle.
She stood frozen, coffee cup in hand. Steam curled thinly upwards, scalding her fingers, but she didnt pull away.
Its comfortable.
Yeah, comfortable, he scoffed, adjusting his tie in the mirror. Just like everything else about you.
Sophia lowered her eyes. The coffee had stopped steaming. Its surface was black, reflecting the ceiling like a shattered mirror.
Max, you
What? He was already jingling his keys, metal clinking against his wedding ring.
Nothing.
The door slammed so hard the porcelain on the shelf trembled.
* * *
Theyd met at work. She, a quiet, unassuming accountant who tucked her hair into a messy bun. He, a confident manager whose laughter echoed down the corridors. Maxim courted her grandlyroses with dewdrops on the petals, candlelit dinners where he ordered her a medium-rare steak without asking what she liked.
Youre not one of those women who fuss over little things, are you? hed asked on their third date, smoothing a napkin over her lap.
No, shed smiled, ignoring the warning bells.
Good. My ex was always making scenes
She hadnt thought much of it. Then came the wedding, the children, the house. Everything proper.
Only sometimes, when she tried on a dress with bare shoulders, hed say,
Stick to something simpler. Thats not your style.
Or when she applied lipstick in the mirror, hed murmur,
Why bother? Youre just staying home.
Once, when she bought a new floral perfume, he wrinkled his nose.
Smells cheap. Are you trying to imitate Aunt Lucy from accounting?
She never wore it again.
For her birthday, he bought her a vacuum cleaner.
The old ones falling apart, he explained as she unwrapped it. Youre always sighing when you clean.
She thanked him. Then stared out the window for a long time until the children called her to cut the cake.
But she stayed silent. Because he was, after all, a good man. Didnt hit her, didnt drink, brought home the money.
Wasnt that enough?
* * *
Did you ever love me?
The same evening. The same conversation. Maxim glanced away, as though checking if the window was shut.
Of course Youre the perfect wife.
Thats not an answer.
He sighed, as if explaining basic arithmetic.
Sophia, why are you making this difficult? Everythings fine.
Fine?! Her voice trembled, not from tears but from fury finally breaking free. You said today you married me because I was convenient!
So what? He shrugged. Is that so bad?
She stared at him like she was seeing him anewthe tan on his neck from tennis with colleagues, not her. The crease between his brows, not from worry, but irritation at having to justify himself.
What about Kate?
Maxims face twitched, as though yanked by an invisible string.
Whats she got to do with this?
You loved her.
Yes, he admitted sharply, and in that single word was more feeling than in all their years. But she wasnt wife material.
Something inside Sophia snapped, like a broken heelyou could still walk, but never the same way again.
So I was the obedient, practical replacement.
Stop being dramatic, he waved her off like swatting a fly. We have children. A home. What more do you want?
* * *
She hesitated.
Maybe he was right? Maybe love was a luxury, and family mattered more? Sophia stood by the window, watching raindrops smear the glass. In the reflection, she saw fingerprintsshed stood here so often lately, as if waiting for the world outside to give her an answer.
Maxim carried on as if nothing had changed.
A week later, seeing her endure it again, he stopped pretending altogether.
Pasta again? He poked at his plate as if dissecting evidence of her failure. Couldve at least added seasoning.
You said you dont like spicy, she replied, her voice hollow, as if someone else spoke for her.
So? He pushed his plate away like it held garbage. Kate always made
Sophia stood abruptly. The chair screeched, leaving another scratch on the flooranother mark in this house, another invisible crack.
If you want Kate, go to her!
Oh, dont start, he laughed, and the sound cut deeper than any shout. Where would I go? You know Im comfortable with you.
In that moment, she finally understood.
He wasnt even trying to keep her. Not because he trusted her love, but because he trusted her obedience.
She noticed it in everything.
How he no longer corrected her “wrong” outfitsjust walked past without looking. How his gaze slid over her as if she were furniturepresent but unused. How his “calm” stretches lasted weeksno fights, no complaints, just nothing.
And the worst part? That nothing was louder than any scream.
She gripped the kitchen counter and realizedhe wasnt even angry. He was just waiting for her to accept it. Like shed accepted the vacuum instead of a gift. Accepted giving up perfume. Accepted being someone who “didnt fuss over little things.”
Then, something inside her turned.
Not pain, not rageliberation.
Because if they stop loving you but still get angry, you still exist.
But if they stop even being angry?
Youre already gone.
* * *
A month later, she filed for divorce.
Maxim didnt believe it at first. He walked into the kitchen where Sophia was packing the childrens things and froze, as if facing a stranger.
Youre serious? His voice held uncertainty for the first time in years.
She didnt look up, folding tiny jumpers neatly.
Yes.
Over something this petty? He stepped forward, and her shoulders tensed.
Its not petty, she said softly. Im not furniture.
He laughedsharp, brittle.
Always so dramatic. You exaggerate everything.
Sophia finally looked at him. His face was painfully familiar, but she saw it differently nowthe tight lips, narrowed eyes. He was furious, not at losing her, but at his convenient world cracking.
Im not exaggerating, she said. Im just tired of being convenient.
Maxim was silent, then snatched his keys from the table.
Fine! You think Ill struggle? He glanced at the boxes. You cant even cook properly.
She flinchedthe old, familiar sting. Once, those words wouldve made her doubt herself. Now? Now they rang hollow.
Maybe, she agreed. But someone disagrees.
His face twisted.
Ah, so thats it. Theres someone else? He smirked. Look at you. Whod even want you?
Her chest tightenedthe old, familiar ache. She almost opened her mouth to say, “Youre right, Im sorry,” like she had a hundred times before.
Then she realizedshe didnt want to.
Me, she said firmly. I want me.
Maxim stilled. He hadnt expected that.
Youve lost it, he hissed. What about the kids? Dont they matter?
She closed her eyes for a second. The children Yes, she thought of them every moment.
Theyll learn what self-respect looks like, she replied.
Oh, spare me! He waved a hand. Youre just selfish. We have everythinga home, stabilityand youll throw it away over nothing?
Sophia looked at him and realizedhe truly didnt understand. To him, it *was* nothing.
To you, she said. Not to me.
He turned away, keys tapping impatiently against his palm.
Fine. Youll regret this.
On the day she collected her last things, Maxim suddenly asked,
Do you really think youll find someone better?
She paused at the door, feeling the breeze brush her face.
Better? she echoed. I dont know. But at least someone who sees *me*, not an empty space.
He said nothing.
She stepped outside, where the air smelled like rain and freedom.
* * *
Two years passed.
Sophia married a man who kissed her shoulder every morning, even when she grumbled it was too early. Who whispered,
