After I Left, His Empire Collapsed Chapter 05

After I Left, His Empire Collapsed Chapter 05

“No,” I said. “Figure it out yourselves. I can’t help you.”

The gumbo had failed. Julian stared at me.

Then the anger hit.

“Vanessa. It’s a legal process. Why are you being like this?”

I met his eyes.

“A legal process, or something real? You know exactly which one it is.”

He’d been glowing when he talked about those wedding photos. Like a kid about to open presents. Anyone could see it.

My words landed. Julian stomped his foot. He’d never lost a fight with me before.

“You’re being completely unreasonable.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue. I turned toward the bedroom.

He shoved past me. Grabbed my pillow off the bed. Hurled it into the hallway.

“You don’t get to sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Go to the study. Think about your behavior.”

He slammed the bedroom door. The lock clicked from inside. Like I was some kind of threat.

I knew the play. Break me down. Make me apologize.

He didn’t realize he was doing me a favor.

I hadn’t planned to share a bed with him anyway. I just wanted to pack and leave. Most of what I owned was in the bedroom. A few old dresses. Stretched out. Washed to nothing. Nothing worth fighting for.

I grabbed my suitcase from the corner of the living room. Headed to the study.

The first thing I saw when I opened the door was my gift to him. Our seventh anniversary.

A string art piece. Dozens of spools of thread. Hundreds of thousands of loops around nails on a wooden board. I’d mapped it from a photo grid. Worked on it for a month. Late nights. Exhaustion.

The image was us at Disneyland. Our first trip. Our only trip.

Julian hadn’t wanted to go. Disney was for kids. A scam to take parents’ money. He thought it was embarrassing. Refused to take a photo with me.

I’d finally gotten him to agree. The price? I took over Sadie’s workload for the next quarter.

One photo. I turned it into this piece. I wanted to preserve something. The tiny bit of goodness from that day.

I checked the tension of the threads constantly. Wiped dust from the glass frame. Packed desiccant packets in every corner to keep moisture out.

Same way I maintained my relationship with him. Constantly. Carefully. Desperately.

I understood now. A man who doesn’t love you? No amount of care will change that.

I lifted the frame off the wall. Grabbed the scissors from the desk.

One cut. The surface threads snapped. Unraveled in all directions.

It had looked whole and perfect. A light touch destroyed it.

Just like our relationship. Looked like a relationship. Was just two people going through the motions.

I dropped the ruined thread into the trash.

While I was packing files from the desk, a binder tipped over.

Letters. Hundreds of them. Handwritten. Spilled across the floor.

I froze.

Letters I’d written to Julian.

Five years ago. Flu season. Julian caught a bad case. Fever spiked to a hundred and five. Rushed to the ER. They couldn’t bring it down. Hours passed. He started hallucinating.

He grabbed my hand. Said he wasn’t ready to die without hearing more of the letters I’d written him. He wanted me to read them aloud. Said if he died, I could burn them at his funeral. So he wouldn’t be alone in the next life.

I was desperate to keep him conscious. Keep him fighting. So I wrote. I wrote down every memory. Every small moment from our years together. Read them to him as I wrote.

By the time his fever broke, I’d emptied ten pens. The side of my index finger was raw and bleeding. The pages were wet with tears. Spotted with blood.

When Julian fully woke and saw my hand, warped and cramped from writing, he wept. Held me so tight I could barely breathe. Promised he’d spend his life making me happy. Grow old with me. Never let anyone hurt me again.

Now he had Sadie.

And he’d hurt me more than anyone ever could.

He broke every promise.