For four years, I had been arguing with myself about whether I was being too demanding, too independent, too sensitive.
But standing there, surrounded by strangers eating food I hadn’t agreed to purchase, I finally understood.
This wasn’t a marriage.
It was an arrangement in which I provided the money and Benedict provided excuses.
I picked up my purse.
Try Marriage Counseling
“I’m leaving.”
He stared at me.
“You can’t.”
I walked toward the door.
“Claire!”
I kept going.
Nobody stopped me.
Outside, the cool evening air hit my face.
I got into my car and drove.
I didn’t know where I was going.
Eventually, I parked at a downtown coffee shop and sat alone with a cup of coffee I barely touched.
My phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
Benedict.
Then Benedict again.
Then Gertrude.
Finally, I answered.
Hire An Accountant
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere quiet.”
