9. Divorce

                                    

                                          
A relationship is strong when it is based on trust, and my trust in Bret led me to foolishly wait for him and explain the havoc surging in our lives. When two introverts meet and fall in love, they become each other's confidants, and there is no third party to share your woes.
It's not that there was no one for me to cry to, but for the first time since I met Bret, loneliness struck me hard. I ached for my Bret to come, wrap his arms around my shoulders, and tell me that the whole world could fall apart and we would always be together.
A harsh laugh escaped my mouth when that thought crossed my mind, and I stopped the car right in front of the huge metal gate. The guard opened the door, and I parked near the front door. Feeling suffocated, I got out of the car and entered inside, locking the door as a headache assaulted my body.
Nostalgia hit me hard when I remembered Bret giving me a painkiller when I had just started as a nurse and the shift was killing me. His words were:
"Love, you will never have a headache because of me, and you will never get hurt."
It sounded like a cliché line from a movie, yet the seriousness in his voice mesmerized me. I always had a thing for communicating with our eyes; I know it sounds weird and silly, but it was our thing.
A mere glance was enough for him to understand what I wanted, and the same went for me. We were so in love that we couldn't stay away from each other for even a second. The birth of our son, Ryan, solidified our connection, and I witnessed his love for another human being.
Each day, he made me fall in love with a different version of him, and words were not required to express how blissful we felt about our life. Yes, there were times when we had arguments, but they would be resolved with confrontation. My heart hurt as those memories flashed by.
Hurt.
Hurt is a phenomenon we can't erase, even if we swallow lots of painkillers. There is no permanent cure for the pain caused by heartache.
For the last couple of hours, my mind was filled with countless thoughts and one hope that everything was just an illusion. Tomorrow, things would go back to what they used to be, and my life would be what I had always envisioned.
But thoughts and reality are two different things that could never coincide. I knew that truth, yet there was something within me—or us—that used to have trust in my husband Bret, who would come and unfold the truth.
What I saw and thought cannot be the truth.
With that thought, my body gave up, and I flopped down on the sofa.
The glaring sunlight made me squirm, and I stirred awake. The clock struck 7 in the morning, and I reluctantly woke up, trying to go through my daily chores. My baby son occupied my thoughts, and I sent him a voice message, resisting the urge to call him.
"Good morning, baby. Mama loves you a lot."
Climbing the stairs, I entered the master bedroom and hopped in the shower to start fresh without the dirt and thoughts plaguing my mind. After doing my morning routine, I dressed in shorts and a tee and decided to only have a coffee.
Turning on some playful music to cheer up my mood, I made my coffee and sat down on the couch near the floor-to-ceiling window, sipping the hot coffee while diverting my focus to the lyrics of the song. I had just wiped my hands on the towel after washing the mug when I heard the sound of a car parking and footsteps coming inside.
"Bret."
His name escaped my mouth as my feet took me to the living area, and there I saw my husband with a plastered hand, looking battered, walking through the front door. As our eyes met, he stopped in his tracks, looking dissatisfied.