She had not taken everything, only what was strictly hers before their marriage had gained its corporate comfort. Her simple leather boots, her canvas painting kit, and her favorite winter coats were completely gone from the shelves.
On the dresser lay her house key, sitting squarely atop the original gold wedding band he gave her. Beside the ring lay an envelope addressed to Daniel in her unmistakable, elegant script, sealed without any decorative flourish.
His hand trembled as he slid his thumb beneath the paper flap, dreading whatever final condemnation she wrote. Inside, however, there were no bitter insults, no wishing of ruin upon his life, and no theatrical farewells.
Daniel, the letter began, I have transferred my personal savings to an independent account downtown. The firm’s original equity agreement remains in the safe, and my attorney will contact your office regarding our formal legal separation.
I do not hate you, the note continued, because hatred requires an energy you no longer inspire in me. I simply realized that loving you was costing me my peace, and that was a price I refused to pay.
