Goodbye, I'm Not Your Substitute Wife Anymore

edo. He looked impeccable, every inch the celebrated architect. He didn't say where

hings I hadn't sent with the movers. My plan was to drive to a small coastal t

car disappearing down the long driveway. A sens

hind me, replaced by the darkness of the open highway. I felt a strange lightness, a sense of

ded me. I yanked the steering wheel, my tires screeching on the wet pavement from an earlier dr

of a machine. My head throbbed with a dull, persistent pa

wake. You were in a nasty accident. You' re ve

didn't fee

for by Mark's assistant, Leo. He had handled everythi

iling. The only visitors were Olivia, who came every day with food and magazines,

maids, Mary and Clara, were tidyin

d. "She' s been here for three days,

approval. "Her father' s condition worsened, and he' s been at her side day and n

sisted. "Mrs. Davis is his wi

en with me lying injured in a hospital bed, Emily was his p

als, meals he ate without comment. I remembered redecorating his study to his exact tastes, a project he never acknowledged. I remembered waiting up for him night afte

as no pain, no anger anymore. Only a profound, weary sense of releas

doorway, looking tired and disheveled. He was still w

Leo just told me the extent of your inju

he man who was my hus

gave a small, humorless smile. "Yes, I hear

through his exhaustion. He flinched, a look of surprise cr

t that?" he asked, tak

ely at the room he paid for. "And soon, it won't be my concern at all. O

in genuine confusion. "Gone for

s almost comical. He had no idea what I had been plan

rrying a basket of fruit. She s

er eyes flicking be

is eyes. He must have remembered Olivia was the frien

quietly on the phone. "Yes, he' s in with Mrs. Davis now... No, I haven'

had heard it. The word hung in the air

sudden, rising anger. "Divorce?" he repeated, his voice