Page 55 of In Every Lifetime
Her breath hitched, her eyes wide. “You still love me, right?”
I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.
It was silent—the world stopping around us. Not that I cared; everything in me was dying. My heart had no reason to beat, and my lungs had no purpose to breathe. It was all pointless without her. But she deserved better than the life I had condemned us to. She shouldn’t need to defend my actions to our…herfriends. She shouldn’t need to worry about me coming home drunk.
She deserved so much better than me.
“You’re lying,” she whispered.
I opened my eyes and shook my head.
“Fai—” She opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off with the sound of my chair squeaking against the floor as I stood. I wandered into the kitchen, opening the cabinet over the fridge she couldn’t reach and pulling out a bottle of whiskey.
I didn’t even stop for a glass, pulling off the top and drinking straight from the bottle.
“Stop it!” she yelled, moving toward me and pushing against my body to get the bottle. In all the years we had been together, she had never seen me drink—at least not since I got sober the first time. She pushed against me as I gulped it down, the alcohol burning my throat as it traveled to my stomach, warming my veins that now felt ice-cold.
“Stop it!” she wailed again, pushing against me, begging me. But I didn’t listen, instead downing every last drop. When it was finally empty, I threw the bottle across the room, the glass shattering against the wall.
Sarah watched in shock, her gaze slowly meeting mine, and she stepped back.
“Faizal.” Her voice was quiet, the word shaking.
“I’m done,” I muttered, turning and walking toward the front door. I grabbed my jacket off the hook by the wall and waitedfor a heartbeat. Every time we fought, she would stop me from leaving.
This time, she didn’t. She stood frozen in the kitchen, looking at the shattered bottle. The glass shards were scattered across the floor, some glinting in the sunlight. My hand rested on the doorknob, and I looked back one more time, knowing that bottle was the end. The pieces resembled our marriage… my heart… my life.
I left the house, the door closing behind me with a final click. I waited on the front porch for a moment more. I nearly turned back to beg for her forgiveness, clean up the mess, and promise to be better.
But I wouldn’t be better. We both knew it.
I still nearly turned—then I heard the click of the front door lock. I wasn’t welcome. Finally, I left, walking away from the house and down the street. I had no destination in mind, but I knew I couldn’t be at the house anymore.
Sarah didn’t follow me. She didn’t stop me.
I didn’t come back.
Now
“No… tell me you’re lying now,” she pleaded. “Please tell me you’re lying.”
I shook my head. “I started that fight on purpose. I needed a way to get you to leave me—not just leave me, but give up on the idea of us.”
“No,” she muttered again, her hands flying to her mouth.
“I know it was wrong to lie, but I don’t regret it, Sarah. I don’t. We were dying in that relationship. You were fighting a one-woman army against a force I had given up on beating years before. I wanted to get you as far away from me as possible. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to live a long, happy life. I wanted you to grow old with someone—live a life with someone who wanted to live—and that wasn’t me,” I explained, my mind reeling just thinking back. There was no denying I was depressed as shit; it was obvious now. “I know it’s wrong to lie, and you can hate me forever if you need to. I accepted that you would when I told you I didn’t love you. I wanted you to hate me because it would mean you would finally let me go. That you would finally be free.”
She turned to me, her eyes blazing. “It wasn’t your place to force my decision! You know I only served those goddamned papers because I thought you didn’t love me?”
“I know; that’s why I did it,” I explained, trying to keep my voice calm but failing miserably. “You were dying in that marriage, Sarah! I was killing you. You talk about watching the person you love wither in front of you? I saw that! I watched youdisappear into our marriage. The difference? I knew it was my fault. I knew it was my own doing, but I didn’t know how to stop it. It was a never-ending cycle that was pushing us further and further into our graves.”
“We could have made it work. Look at you—you’re sober now,” she argued, pointing a finger in my face. “We could have been together if you had sucked it up and gotten sober.”
I took a steadying breath, knowing she was angry. “You know it’s not that easy.” She deflated slightly but still faced me toe-to-toe. “At the end of the day… I would have never gotten sober if we didn’t get divorced. If I didn’t lose you. And we would have never gotten divorced if I didn’t lie to you.”
She stood there, seething. Her hands were balled into fists, her glare trained on me. But her eyes still shed tears, each one trailing softly down her cheek.
“I’m sorry you’re hurt,” I muttered. “But I’m not sorry I lied.”
