He Thought I Would Silently Endure

secret USB drive. The password wasn't our weddi

ive of a life he'd lived before me. I searched for my name. Zer

ur firm and gave her my passion project, th

w lead. When she staged an accident and he instantly rus

pected me to silently endure his

would break.

, walked right up to him in front of all hi

pte

Mort

the one I stumbled upon on our fifth weddin

8

eenth. Isabe

was only looking because I needed a pen. It was unlabeled, innocuous. But something about the way it was

immediately. For a moment, I almost closed it, a wave of

ely nights spent waiting for a man who was always emotionally

nniversary. A

birthday. Ac

birthday. A

go. One of his friends, slurring his words, had clapped Blake on the back and sloshed beer on my dress. "Can you believe this guy?" he' d bellowe

rembling as I t

te

ive un

" It contained thousands of files. Photos, videos, scanned lette

each. Blake, looking younger and impossibly happy, presenting her with a single, perfect rose. A video of them dancing in a

. joyful. Genuinely, uncomplicatedly joyful in a way I had never seen. Blake Baird, the man who consid

her. "Izzy, I' d build you a castle in the clouds if you' d let me." It was a silly, youthful prom

drive for my

res

I had not merited a singl

, the sound jarring me from

into the study, his handsome face etched with the usual end-of-day

ud, but it was laced with ice. It was the same tone h

eady. The storm inside me had passed, leaving be

s face. He walked over, yanked the USB drive from the port, and snapped the small plastic

wastebasket as if dispo

f that simple act could erase everything. "

h. He didn't apologize. He didn't explain. He just

my voice as f

an burdened by a hysterical woman. "Kacey,

tes ago when it was password

"Look, I know I've been busy. Let's just drop this. We'll go to

ject he dangled whenever my unhappiness became inconvenient. He treated my feelings like a negotiation, believing every hurt had a

e air burning in my lung

revealing the cold, entitled man beneath. "Are you? You want a divorce? Fine. You thin

f the room, leaving the anniversary dinner I' d spent al

I didn't get up to follow him. I

back at me. He was waiting. He was so certain I would break,

nd looked at the untouche

m of the front door ec

heart finally running out of love to give. I used to think Blake was just a man who didn

knew how to cook, how to write love notes, how to make

aceholder. A convenient, love-struck fool who fi

it all laid out in a digital