Gertrude faced consequences too.
The assault resulted in a pretrial diversion agreement requiring her to cover my medical expenses, complete anger-management courses, and follow a strict restraining order.
On the day Benedict and I signed the final divorce documents, he cried.
He told me he was sorry.
He said he had made mistakes.
He said he still loved me.
I listened.
Then I said:
“You’re not mourning our marriage.”
He looked at me.
“You’re mourning what you lost.”
“What did I lose?”
“Financial security.”
His face fell.
I didn’t say it to hurt him.
I said it because I finally understood the truth.
He hadn’t loved the life we built together.
He had loved what my money allowed him to do.
After the divorce, I began rebuilding.
I traveled.
I took contemporary dance classes.
I learned to enjoy quiet mornings.
I bought groceries without wondering whether someone else would demand that I pay for theirs.
