“…when you did nothing — that’s exactly why.”
Zack stared at her, confused. “What does that even mean?”
Kelly took a slow breath, her hands trembling but her voice steady.
“You never cheated. You never yelled. You never hit me. You went to work. You paid the bills.”
“Exactly!” he said, almost relieved. “So what’s the problem?”
“The problem,” she whispered, “is that you were never there.”
He frowned. “I was always home.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You were in the house. Not with me.”
She continued, the words spilling out after years of silence.
“When I got that promotion and wanted to celebrate, you said you were tired. When my mom died, you told me to ‘stay strong’ and went back to watching TV. When I tried to talk about feeling lonely, you said I was being dramatic.”
Zack opened his mouth, then closed it.
“You never fought for me,” she said. “You never asked what I needed. You never planned a date. Never held my hand unless I reached for yours first. I begged you for counseling. You said there was ‘nothing wrong.’”
“I thought we were fine,” he muttered.
“That’s just it,” Kelly replied. “You were fine. I wasn’t.”
Silence filled the room.
“For thirty years,” she said softly, “I felt invisible. Like a roommate who cooked and cleaned and slept beside you. I didn’t want a perfect man. I wanted a present one.”
Zack’s eyes were glossy now. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this serious?”
“I did,” she said. “Over and over. You just didn’t think it mattered.”
He sat down heavily. “So that’s it? Thirty years gone?”
Kelly shook her head gently. “They’re not gone. We raised good kids. We built a life. But I can’t spend the rest of mine begging to be seen.”
She picked up her suitcase.
At the door, she paused.
“I don’t hate you, Zack,” she said. “But I deserve more than ‘nothing wrong.’ I deserve love that feels alive.”
And then she walked out.
