Chapter 16
I felt that sentence.
Not because it restored anything.
Because it named something I had struggled to explain.
People often praise strong women while quietly using their strength as an excuse to hurt them.
Natalie will manage.
Natalie will understand.
Natalie won't fall apart.
Natalie can handle it.
Strength becomes a discount other people apply to your pain.
"I did handle it," I said.
"I know."
"That doesn't mean you had the right to hand it to me."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"No."
We finished dinner.
Outside, the air had turned cold.
Adrian walked with me toward my car.
At the curb, he said, "I miss you."
I looked at him.
Months earlier, those words would have broken me open.
Now they made me sad.
"I believe you."
"Do you miss me?"
There was no safe answer except the true one.
"Sometimes."
His face softened.
"I miss who we were."
The softness disappeared.
I continued.
"I miss eating Thai food on the floor. I miss the way you used to call me from the grocery store because you could never remember which yogurt I liked. I miss Sunday mornings before your phone became more interesting than breakfast."
He swallowed.
"But I don't miss wondering where you are. I don't miss checking the time when you're late. I don't miss asking a question and being told the question is the problem."
He stared at the sidewalk.
"I could change those things."
"You should."
His head lifted.
"For yourself."
The distinction landed.
"Natalie."
"I don't want you to become better to win me back. I want you to become better because this version of you hurts people."
He flinched.
I almost apologized.
Then I didn't.
He asked whether I would ever consider counseling together.
"I'll consider counseling to help us end the marriage well."
His eyes filled.
It was the first time I had seen Adrian close to tears.
"I don't want it to end."
"I know."
"Does that matter at all?"
"Yes."
He looked hopeful again.
"It matters because I don't enjoy hurting you."
The hope faded.
"But your regret doesn't create an obligation for me."
He turned his head.
Traffic moved behind us.
Someone laughed outside a bar across the street.
Life continuing again.
Always continuing.
"I really thought you'd come back," he said.
"When?"
"That weekend."
"Even after the suitcases?"
"Especially after the suitcases."
I was stunned.
"Why?"