You said you married me because I was convenient today! she snapped. He shrugged, unfazed. So what? Is that a bad thing?
Seriously, that old dressing gown again? Oliver wrinkled his nose as he adjusted his cufflinks, like a soldier preparing for battle.
Charlotte froze, her fingers burning around the steaming mug of tea. The heat didnt register. The liquid had stopped steaming, turning dark and stilljust like the reflection of the ceiling staring back at her, cracked and distorted.
Its practical.
Yeah, practical, he scoffed, straightening his tie in the mirror. Like everything else about you.
She dropped her gaze. The tea had cooled. The surface was black now, lifeless.
Oliver, do you
What? He jingled his keys, the metal clinking against his wedding ring.
Never mind.
The door slammed so hard the porcelain on the shelf trembled.
***
Theyd met at work. She was the quiet accountant, always tucking her hair into a messy bun. He was the loud, confident manager whose laughter echoed down the halls. Oliver had wooed her properlyroses with dew still clinging to the petals, candlelit dinners where he ordered her a medium-rare steak without asking what she liked.
Youre not one of those women who makes a fuss over nothing, are you? hed asked on their third date, smoothing a napkin over her lap.
No, shed smiled, ignoring the warning bells ringing faintly in her mind.
Good. My ex was always kicking off about something
She hadnt thought much of it. Then came the wedding, the kids, the houseeverything society said she should want.
Except sometimes, when she tried on a dress with bare shoulders, hed say:
Thats not really you. Stick to something simpler.
Or when she dabbed on lipstick before the mirror:
Why bother? Its not like youre going out.
Or the time she bought a new perfumelight, floraland hed grimaced:
Smells like a cheap shop. Trying to imitate Doris from accounts?
She stopped wearing it.
For her birthday, he bought her a vacuum.
The old ones knackered, he explained as she unwrapped it. Youre always sighing when you clean.
She thanked him. Then stared out the window until the kids called her to cut the cake.
But she stayed quiet. Because he was a good husband, wasnt he? Didnt drink, didnt hit her, brought home the money.
Wasnt that enough?
***
Did you ever love me?
The same evening. The same conversation. Oliver glanced away, as if checking the window was latched.
Of course I did. Youre the perfect wife.
Thats not an answer.
He sighed, like she was a child struggling with basic maths.
Charlotte, why are you making a scene? Everythings fine.
Fine?! Her voice shooknot with tears, but fury finally breaking free. You said you married me because I was convenient!
So? Another shrug. Is that wrong?
She studied him, really lookedthe tan on his neck from tennis with colleagues, not her. The crease between his brows, not from worry, but irritation at having to explain himself.
What about Emily?
His face twitched, like someone had tugged an invisible string.
Whats she got to do with this?
You loved her.
Yeah, he admitted sharply, and in that one word was more feeling than in all their years. I did. But she wasnt wife material.
Something inside her snappedquietly, like a broken heel. You could still walk, but not the same way.
So I was the obedient, practical replacement.
Dont be dramatic, he waved her off like a fly. Weve got kids. A home. What more do you want?
***
She hesitated.
Maybe he was right? Maybe love was a luxury, and family mattered more? Charlotte stood by the window, watching raindrops smear the glass. The reflection showed her fingerprintsshed stood here so often lately, as if waiting for the world outside to give her an answer.
Oliver? Oliver carried on like nothing had changed.
A week later, seeing shed swallowed it again, he dropped the act entirely.
Pasta again? He poked at his plate like it was evidence of her failure. Couldve at least seasoned it.
You always said you hated spice, she replied, but her voice sounded distant, like someone else was speaking.
So? Emily always used to
Charlotte stood so fast the chair screeched, leaving another scratch on the flooranother invisible crack in their life.
Go to Emily, then!
Oh, give it a rest, he laughed, and that hurt more than shouting. Where would I go? You know Im comfortable with you.
Thats when she 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 now.
The way he no longer corrected her wrong outfitsjust walked past without looking. The way his gaze slid over her, like she was part of the furniturea sofa that was there, but never sat on. The way his calm stretched for weeksno fights, no complaints, just nothing.
And the worst part? That nothing was louder than any scream.
Standing in the kitchen, gripping the counter, she realised: he wasnt even angry. He was just waiting for her to accept it. Like shed accepted the vacuum instead of a gift. Like shed stopped wearing perfume. Like she wasnt the type to fuss over nothing.
Then something inside her turned over.
Not pain. Not anger. Freedom.
Because if someone doesnt love you but still gets madyou still exist to them.
But when the anger stops too?
Thats when youre truly gone.
***
A month later, she filed for divorce.
Oliver didnt believe it at first. He walked into the kitchen where Charlotte was packing the kids things and froze, like he was staring at a stranger.
Youre serious?
She didnt look up. Yes.
Over something this stupid? He stepped closer; her shoulders tensed.
Its not stupid. Im not a piece of furniture.
He laughedsharp, nervous.
Oh, here we go! You always exaggerate.
She finally met his eyes. His face was familiar, but she saw it differently nowthe tight lips, the slight squint. He was annoyed, but not because he was losing her. Because his convenient life had cracked.
Im not exaggerating, she said. Im just tired of being convenient.
He was silent, then snatched his keys off the table.
Fine! You think Ill struggle? He glanced at the boxes. You cant even cook properly.
She flinchedthe old 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! Youve got someone else? A sneer. Look at youwhod even want you?
The old pain tightened in her chest. She almost opened her mouth to say, Youre right, Im sorry, like she had a hundred times before.
But then she realised: she didnt want to.
I do, she said firmly. I want me.
Oliver stilled. He hadnt expected that.
Youve lost it, he hissed. What about the kids? Youre just selfish.
She closed her eyes for a second. The kids Yes, she thought of them every minute.
Theyll learn what self-respect looks like.
Oh, spare me! He jingled his keys impatiently. Weve got a house, money Youd throw that away over nothing?
Charlotte looked at him and realised: he genuinely didnt understand. To him, it *was* nothing.
To you, maybe, she said. Not to me.
He turned away, tapping the keys against his palm.
Fine. Youll regret this.
On the day she collected the last of her things, Oliver suddenly asked:
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 someone who sees *me*, not just an empty space.
He said nothing.
She stepped outside, where the air smelled like rain and freedom.
***
Two years passed.
Charlotte married a man who kissed her shoulder every morning, even when she grumbled it was too early. Who whispered, Youre beautiful, when she was in an old dressing gown, hair tangled, shadows under her eyes. Who once
