novelnext Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Jack stormed out, his rage still simmering. It was nothing new. Every time we fought, he would disappear, leaving me behind to stew in the silence. In the past, I always gave in first, swallowing my pride, begging for reconciliation because I believed in the love we had. I thought he would come back eventually, and we'd patch things up like we always did.
But this time was different. This time, I wasn't going to cave.
I printed another set of divorce papers, signed my name with a steady hand, and without looking back, I picked up Ella's urn and walked out of the house for the last time.
My marriage to Jack had always been complicated, tangled with the legacy of my brother. He and Jack had been college roommates who started a company together after graduation. It took off fast, going public in just a few years. But their success was short-lived. On the way to a meeting, they got into a car accident. My brother died shielding Jack, leaving him to walk away with his life.
We had lost our parents early, and my brother and I were all we had. He knew about my feelings for Jack, and on his deathbed, he made Jack promise to take care of me. Jack, full of gratitude for my brother's sacrifice, agreed without hesitation. That was the moment my brother passed away in peace.
Jack's family accepted the marriage out of respect for the life my brother had given him. Everyone thought my brother had traded his life for my future comfort and wealth.
What no one knew was that Jack had proposed ten times before I finally agreed. The first nine times, I clung to him, crying, pleading for him to bring my brother back, to fix the impossible hole my brother's death had left in my life. But on the tenth time, Jack told me it was my brother's dying wish. If I refused, I would dishonor his memory. How could I deny my brother one last request? So, I reluctantly agreed.
When we got married, Jack treated me well, at least, in public. He provided a life of luxury, put on the show of a loving husband, but behind closed doors, we were strangers. He never really let me in. We were just two people living under the same roof, going through the motions.
The day our daughter was born, I heard something in Jack's voice that I couldn't ignore. There was a sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
"I owed you a family member," he said, his voice distant. "Today, I've repaid that debt. We're even now."
At the time, I thought I had misheard. Maybe I was just imagining things. Jack might not love me, but I thought he respected me, that maybe there was hope for us.
But I was wrong. His respect wasn't for me, it was for my brother's sacrifice.
After our daughter was born, I thought things would change. I thought maybe, finally, Jack would open up. But instead, he moved into the guest room, never returning to our bedroom.
On her one-month birthday, I overheard him on the phone with Mandy, his voice slurring, a bit drunk.
"There won't be any more kids," he said. "I've repaid my debt to her. I'm done."
That was when I understood. My marriage had never been about love, it had always been about Jack's obligation, about fulfilling a debt to a man who wasn't even here anymore.
I wanted to get out, to leave him behind. But when I looked at our daughter, so innocent and full of hope, I couldn't. I compromised. I wanted to give her a family, even if it wasn't one I had ever dreamed of. I thought, maybe, if I worked hard enough, I could change Jack's heart.
But I was wrong. This marriage, born from death and obligation, would end in death too.