Chapter 2: Done with him

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. The fury simmering inside me erupted like a storm, blinding me with its intensity. My hands moved on their own, grabbing Julia by the hair and yanking it back so hard that a startled gasp escaped her lips.

The sound of her shock only fueled my rage. I pulled her closer, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and anguish.

“You think you can just walk in here and steal everything from me?” I spat, my breath coming in ragged bursts.

“Do you honestly think you can take him from me after everything I’ve sacrificed?”

Her eyes widened with fear but quickly turned smug, that confidence only making me grip her hair tighter. Before I could do more, a firm grip yanked me away. Ford’s hands clamped down on my arms, his voice slicing through the air like a whip.

“Alicia, stop!”

I twisted in his grasp, trying to break free, but his hold was ironclad. “Let go of me!” I hissed, venom in my voice.

“No,” he growled, his tone cold. “This isn’t you, Alicia. You’re better than this.”

His words cut deep, but not in the way he intended. My rage flared hotter, a fire that couldn’t be contained. Tears of anger and betrayal welled in my eyes as I glared up at him. “You don’t get to tell me who I am, Ford! Not after everything you’ve done!”

Julia, regaining her composure, stepped closer, her lips curling into a smirk that churned my stomach.

“You’re pathetic, Alicia,” she mocked. “Always clinging to a man who doesn’t even want you. It’s embarrassing.”

I turned on her, my voice trembling but sharp.

“Embarrassing? You think I’m the pathetic one?” I stepped closer, ignoring Ford’s grip.

“You’re nothing but a parasite who thrives on others’ misery. You can have him because I’m done. Done with you. Done with him.”

Ford’s jaw tightened, guilt flickering in his eyes, but I didn’t care anymore.

“You want the truth?” I turned to him fully, my voice cracking.

“You’ve broken me, Ford. You’ve turned everything good in me into ash. But not anymore. Tomorrow, you’ll give me the divorce papers. I’m taking our baby and leaving. For good.”

His lips parted, but no words came out. That silence, that hesitance, was all I needed to know. Julia laughed, a sound that grated against every nerve in my body.

“Running away?” she taunted.

“Typical Alicia. Always playing the victim. You were never enough for him, and you never will be.”

The words were knives, but I refused to let them cut me. I squared my shoulders, meeting her gaze with a fierceness I didn’t know I had left.

“You’re right,” I said, my voice low but steady.

“I’ll never be enough for him. But I don’t need to be. I’m done trying. Take him. You’ll see soon enough there’s nothing left to fight for.”

Her smirk faltered. “Drain him dry, Julia,” I continued.

“I sure as hell don’t want what’s left.”

Ford stepped between us, his face hard, but I was beyond caring.

“This is over,” I said, directing my words at both of them.

“I’m done being your second choice, your safety net. You’ll never see me groveling for your scraps again.”

Without waiting for a response, I stormed out. My steps were heavy, purposeful, as I left behind the man I had once loved and the life I had fought so hard to hold onto. When I reached my car, the tears I’d been holding back spilled over, blurring my vision as I gripped the steering wheel. I started the engine, my hands trembling, and drove off, leaving the house—and everything it represented—in the past.

The drive home felt like an eternity. Every mile was a battle against the sobs threatening to consume me. By the time I pulled into the driveway of my rented house, I was utterly drained.

Lena, the sitter, opened the door, her face falling when she saw me. “Alicia, what happened?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

I shook my head, stepping inside. “I’m leaving, Lena,” I said hoarsely.

“Tomorrow. Me and the baby—we’re leaving for good.”

She stared at me, her expression a mix of shock and worry. “But where will you go? What about my job?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, placing a hand on her arm.

“I wish I could help, but I can’t stay here anymore.”

Lena nodded reluctantly, her eyes softening with understanding. That night, I packed everything that mattered. Clothes, toys, photos—every piece of the life I was taking with me. By the time I finished, exhaustion pulled me to the sofa near my baby’s crib.

When I woke the next morning, Ford was standing in front of me, an envelope in his hand.

“Sign it,” he said coldly, setting it on the table.

I looked at him, my chest tightening. Despite everything, a part of me had hoped for an apology, a sign that he cared. But there was nothing in his expression but detachment.

“Tell me, Ford, do you really want us to end this?”

His gaze was cold, unflinching. “Yes. We both know this marriage was never going to work. You’re being selfish by clinging to it.”

“Selfish?” The word burned.

“You married me because you thought I’d ruin your precious reputation. I’ve spent years trying to be the wife you’d want, and all I’ve gotten is cruelty.”

Ford’s jaw tightened. “And you knew I’d never love you. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

The words struck like a whip. For years, I had endured his indifference, believing that if I worked harder, looked better, or tried more, I could change his heart. But now, standing before him, I finally asked the question that had haunted me.

“How could you ever love me, Ford?” My voice broke.

“When Julia is everything I’m not—beautiful, successful, perfect. She fits every dress flawlessly while I... I’m the overweight wife who embarrasses you. Isn’t that what you’ve always thought?”

His silence was louder than words. Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

“I’ve spent every day trying to be enough for you. Enough for a man who never wanted me. But you’re right. This marriage is over. And for the first time, I’m glad.”

I picked up the envelope, signing the papers with shaking hands, then pushed them back across the table.

“There,” I said, my voice steady.

“You’re free. And so am I.”

Ford didn’t move, his expression unreadable.

“Do you even care about your son?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Do you love him, Ford?”

His gaze shifted for the first time, but his face remained impassive.

“The baby will be better off without this toxicity,” he said flatly.

“If you want to leave with him, go. You’re free to take him.”

The finality in his tone was both freeing and devastating. Without another word, I walked away, holding onto the only thing that mattered—my son.