I cut him short. “You can go back to the past,
but no one’s waiting for you there.”
He grabbed my hand, his voice choked with
emotion. “Nicole, I know now. I love you. Only
you.‘
I pulled my hand away. “Love doesn’t need
confirmation. Only uncertainty does.”
He continued his plea “Nicole tomorrow’s my
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birthday. You always made me longevity
noodles…..”
“Mark,” I asked, “do you know when my
birthday was?”
He paused, his face falling. “Last Sunday…”
“You see? You love yourself the most.”
“I’m sorry… I’ll throw you the biggest birthday
party…..”
I shook my head. This wasn’t about birthdays.
“No need. You still don’t get it. It’s over. I’ve
booked an appointment at the courthouse
tomorrow. Let’s finalize the divorce. Leaving
you taught me how to love myself. So please,
leave me alone.”
I ran towards Daniel. He’d been waiting in the
cold. I wouldn’t make him wait anymore.
Mark:
The reality of losing Nicole hit me when I
received the divorce certificate. Until then, even
after signing the papers, I’d been in denial, convinced she’d return once her memory
returned. I hadn’t realized she’d never lost it.
Panic seized me. Something precious had
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slipped away.
We only appreciate things after we’ve lost them. I scrolled through her old social media posts, the messages she’d sent me. I laughed, realizing how funny and vibrant she’d been. Her messages were long, chatty; mine were short, infrequent. Gradually, her messages became less frequent, less enthusiastic. People don’t stop sharing; they just find a new audience. She’d turned to Daniel.
I’d been oblivious, blinded by my own self- absorption, assuming it was just sibling closeness. I’d taken her for granted,
accustomed to her love, never imagining she’d
leave. Now, I realized I loved her.
But she was gone.
Alex was gone too, opting for boarding school, declaring he could take care of himself. The
house was empty, devoid of warmth. Nicole hadn’t left a trace of herself behind. I envied Alex; at least he could still see his mother.
I numbed the pain with alcohol, tormented by memories of her, consumed by regret. I’d had
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her, this woman who loved me so deeply, and I’d pushed her away. I could have been happy. I’d destroyed it all.
I stared at our wedding photo, tears blurring my vision. Why couldn’t I go back and tell myself not to hurt her, not to push her away? If I had a second chance, I’d hold onto her, never let go. But there were no second chances.
She was getting remarried. Just months ago, she’d been my wife. My mind reeled. How could this be happening?
I told Alex about his mother’s upcoming
marriage to Daniel, hoping he’d share my pain,
my sense of betrayal. He wasn’t upset. “Mom’s happy with Uncle Daniel. I want her to be happy.”
Even a child understood. How could I blame her?
I attended the wedding. The wedding I never gave her, Daniel did. Alex was the ring bearer. The ceremony was beautiful. Nicole, radiant in
her wedding dress, had never looked more
stunning.
“I wish you happiness,” I said.
“Thank you,” she replied, her smile genuine.
She’d moved on.
I had lost my chance at happiness. It was my punishment, a life sentence.
