Too Late For Your Grand Remorse

inn

trast to the dismissive tone he' d used with me seconds before. He held the phone to his ea

, his thumb unconsciously rubbing the edge of the phone

. It was a performance I' d witnessed firsthand, though never directed at me. She was a master at turning minor incon

nic is being rude? Unbelievable. Don' t worry, I' m on my way. Don' t move an inch, I' ll

ually signed away. I remembered last winter when my car broke down on a deserted highway, miles from anywhere. I' d called hi

nd purposeful. He was a man on a mission, a knight rushing to

ouble. All those years I' d rationalized his distance, his coldness, telling myself it was just how he was, an unavoidable byproduct of his ambitious

' ll be back later," he said, his voice f

l in the ruins of my life. He left, the front door c

e, the expensive art, the life we had built. It all felt hollow, emp

ere I had believed. I pulled them out, one by one, and tossed them into a large donation bin. The expensive diamond necklace he' d give

picked it up, my fingers tracing the cold metal. He rarely wore it. He preferred the flashier, newer models Kylee had probably picke

helf, the front door opened again. My br

nd in her arms, a tiny fluffy white puppy, its tail

e' s perfect!" she cooed

iving it a loving home. Grant had been furious. He' d declared he hated animals, that they were messy, demanding,

d the puppy, a warmth radiating from him I hadn' t felt in years.

the furniture, and headed to the kitchen

ed from the kitchen, his voice laced wit

decade, dinner had always been ready. Because I m

lat, devoid of emotion. "Dinner

. Kylee, still clutching the puppy, peered aroun

demanded, his voice hardening. "Are

e soft, placating. She sidled up to him, placing a hand on his arm. "It' s

e right, sweetheart. Always so thoughtful." He turned back to me, his e

she began, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I truly hope you and

e the innocent bystander. You knew exactly what you were doing. The long-drawn-out calls, the 'accidental' brushes, the way you

raced a path down her cheek. She let out a small, choked sob.

Have you no shame? She' s a young woman, you' re just jealous and spiteful." His voice was laced with disgust. He cradle

s wife of nearly a decade, stood discarded, accused, and utterly invisible. I felt a profound weariness settle into my

clinic I'd researched discreetly. The procedure was swift, irreversible. I had given up so much for him, even the choice to be a mother, because he once said he wasn't re