The lights above flickered with a warm glow, casting long shadows across the table set for two. Alina sat alone at the dinner table, fingers nervously smoothing the tip of her glass cup.
One plate untouched. One candle burning low, one heart breaking quietly.
The wine glass stood untouched.
The food had gone cold. And Alina sat at the edge of the dining table, still in the red dress he once said made her look like temptation.
The silence in the house was thick, like a fog that wouldn't lift. Her eyes stayed fixed on the front door, as though sheer willpower could summon David through it even while told not to wait for him, she couldn't help herself.
Each tick of the clock felt like a hot slap across her soul that she was willing to endure.
He'll come, she told herself. He always does...eventually.
But deep down, she already knew.
He wasn't coming.
Alina checked her phone for the fifth time in the last three minutes hoping to see any other message from him.
Her hand trembled as she picked up the phone again and texted:
"Happy Anniversary Love"
In hope it'd cause him to remember if he had forgotten it was their big day.
She waited... ten minutes passed. Then fifteen.
The screen lit up with a single message:
"Don't disturb me woman, l told you I'm busy"
The dam broke.
Tears spilled without warning, hot and angry, trailing over her carefully applied makeup like shame. She'd spent hours trying to be beautiful for him tonight, worn the dress he once said made him want to devour her, cooked the meal he used to beg for.
And still, she wasn't enough.
That night she thought she could save her husband's heart and have his child.
Tracking her cycle and learning it's on the same day as her big day made her heart flush.
But everything washed down as the rain that fell outside.
She curled her arms around herself at the head of the table, alone under the romantic chandelier.
Three years ago today, she had walked down an aisle believing she was stepping into forever.
Now, she was in a cold house, wearing a red dress that made no difference, waiting for a man who had already emotionally left her months ago.
Was it always this empty? Or had she been too in love to notice?
...
The front door creaked open a little past midnight.
Alina looked up from her place on the couch, her eyes puffy and rimmed with dried mascara. Her heart thudded in her chest, a strange cocktail of hope and dread swirling in her veins.
David stepped inside, his face half-covered in the shadow. Rain clung to his coat, but there was no urgency in his stride. No apology in his expression.
"Finally," she breathed, standing to meet him. "I've been waiting for hours."
He didn't look at her.
Barely glanced at the untouched dinner table.
Didn't ask why her eyes were red. He just pulled a thin envelope from his coat pocket and set it on the glass coffee table like he was handing over a receipt.
Alina blinked. "What's that?"
"Read it," he said flatly, stepping back like the conversation was already over.
She slowly opened the envelope with trembling fingers. Her heart beat louder with every second. The moment her eyes landed on the header, she froze.
DIVORCE PETITION.
Her hands shook. "You're divorcing me?"
David exhaled like she was being too dramatic. "I don't want to do this tonight."
"Too bad, David, because you already did."
He rolled his eyes, loosening his tie with the same casual indifference he used on their second anniversary when he forgot her gift. "I'm tired, Alina."
"Tired?" she echoed, voice rising. "You're tired? I planned this night for us. I waited here, in that red dress you used to love, with your favorite wine, your favorite food and you couldn't even send more than "caught up in something, don't wait for me?"
"You're making this harder than it has to be."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I thank you for waiting until after dessert to throw my life away?"
His jaw tightened. "We haven't been working for a long time."
"You haven't been trying for a long time," she snapped. "You don't talk to me anymore, you don't even look at me. Am I not beautiful enough? You sleep in the guest room. You come home late and lie about where you've been!"
"I don't need to explain myself to you," David snapped, his calm mask cracking for just a second.
That one sentence, those words stabbed deeper than any silence ever could.
"You don't need to explain yourself?" she repeated, stunned. "I'm your wife!"
"Not for much longer."
The room went still. The air suddenly felt cold but heat rushed down Alina's spine.
Alina felt her breath catch in her throat. Like something inside her chest had just been ripped out by hand.
She stepped toward him. "There's someone else."
He didn't answer.
She laughed bitterly, tears threatening to fall again. "Of course there is. Is it her? Your precious Sofia? The one you said you barely talk to? The one l was told "not to worry about"?