AFTER MY EX-WIFE

l

without her made me feel like I was living in someone else's skin, a stranger in my own life. With Alessia gone, I basically went through the motions, praying for

en I informed her about Ales

x" she had remarked later, leaving

oy of Alessia 's return, I can't escape

told me to carry on. "You'll grow to love her," he guaranteed. "Camilla will be good for you." I never did. Even now, as I stand on the

been three days since my departure. I was with Alessia , of course, enjoy

tudy abroad, believing that a lady like her needed more than simply marriage to rea

ved she didn't care enough to fight for us. That agony was what pushed me to alc

there was

her, but I also couldn't love her. How c

thout him, there's nothing connecting me to this life with Camilla except Alessia's absen

eway is

e yet. Good. This must occur face to f

n apartment, away from the fake that was our marriage. I headed upstairs, she must be in the master bedroom. She persisted on remaining there, even when I went to the guest room, she stayed ther

thing but silence. The bed was mad

om. Still nothing. My heart quickens-why does the emptiness of the h

voice cutting through th

whether she touched it since I left it three days ago. I gaze at

g my life with Alessia, that I never paused to think

other wasn't there - maybe not in her own case. Camilla never complained-not explicitly. But I saw the grief in her eyes, felt the tension every time we crossed pa

hat day ha

orce papers, a little letter dropped out, dropping on the floor. I b

be easy for her-if it were, maybe she never cared, after all. Maybe she understood, deep d

w, worry, and possibly even regret. Three years. She tried for three years, expecting that I would come around. And now I'm standing here, with precisely what I thought I wanted:

aining my jaw. I cannot afford to feel gu

e deserved more than what I provided her. But, as I mo

verything, I could have stolen something from her that I'll never be able to restore.