Not the only option.
The words echoed in my head, a gut punch, as if I was some placeholder, some temporary arrangement that could be swapped out whenever convenient.
“Excuse me?”
My voice came out steadier than I felt.
Sylvia smiled, a patronizing pad on my shoulder.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic. I’m just saying that a little competition might be good for you. Keeps you on your toes. Ashley never let herself go like this.”
Her eyes traveled pointedly disdainfully to my casual sweater and jeans.
I walked back into the living room, my hands shaking.
Phân cảnh 3: Deciding to leave
Garrett and Ashley were sitting too close on the couch, his arm casually stretched across the back cushions in a pose that looked rehearsed practiced.
They both looked up as I entered, and something in my expression must have given away the tremor of my emotional state.
“Everything okay?” Garrett asked, though his tone suggested he didn’t really want to know the answer.
“Can we talk privately?” I asked, my voice tight.
He sighed, the sound loaded with irritation.
“Vivien, we have guests.”
“Your ex-girlfriend is not a guest,” I shot back, the words biting. “She’s a problem.”
Ashley raised her eyebrows, taking a delicate sip of wine.
“Wow. Okay.”
Garrett stood up, his jaw tight.
“Let’s go to the kitchen.”
We moved into the hallway, far enough from the living room that our voices hopefully wouldn’t carry.
“What is wrong with you?” Garrett hissed. “You’re being incredibly rude.”
“I’m being rude?” I exclaimed, disbelief coloring my tone. “Your mother just told me I’m basically replaceable, and you invited your ex-girlfriend to Thanksgiving without even asking me.”
“I didn’t invite her. My mom did,” he argued, running a hand through his hair. A gesture of frustration I knew so well.
“And you allowed it. You knew about this yesterday and said nothing.”
“Because I knew you’d react exactly like this,” he retorted. “It’s embarrassing, Vivian. Ashley is being perfectly pleasant, and you’re acting like some jealous teenager.”
“I’m acting like a wife who deserves basic respect.”
His eyes hardened. He wasn’t even looking at me anymore, his gaze directed somewhere over my shoulder.
“If you’re going to act insecure, just leave.”
The words came out sharp. Final.
“Seriously, if you can’t handle being around Ashley for one dinner, maybe you should go.”
Something inside me snapped. Not loudly, not explosively, but quietly and completely, like the final thread in a rope that had been fraying for months.
“Leave?”
“Okay.”
I walked back into the living room, grabbed my purse from the side table, and headed toward the front door.
“Vivian,” Raymond called out, finally looking up from his newspaper, a genuine concern etched on his face.
“I’m leaving,” I said clearly, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
Sylvia appeared in the doorway, her expression a venomous mix of triumph and false concern.
“Oh dear. Running away won’t solve anything.”
I looked at her, then at Ashley, who was watching with undisguised interest.
“I’m not running,” I stated, locking eyes with Sylvia. “I’m choosing myself.”
Garrett followed me to the door, but he didn’t try to stop me.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” I countered, already halfway out the door. “But I’d rather be ridiculous than disrespected in my own marriage.”
I drove home in a days, my mind racing through 3 years of marriage, cataloging all the small dismissals, the casual cruelties I’d explained away as misunderstandings.
This wasn’t a misunderstanding.
This was a pattern.