Daniel and I were alone.
For seventeen years, he had been the person I trusted most in the world.
Now I barely recognized him.
— Laura, I made a mistake.
— No.
I looked directly at him.
— A mistake is forgetting an anniversary. A mistake is saying something cruel during an argument.
I pointed toward the apartment papers.
— This was a plan.
He started crying.
I didn’t.
Not yet.
— Come home with me, he begged. We can fix this.
I slowly removed my wedding ring.
His eyes dropped to my hand.
— Seventeen years ago, I promised to build a life with you.
I placed the ring on the hotel table.
— But you built an exit behind my back.
Then I walked out.
Daniel called my name from the hallway.
I kept walking.