I Was Never His Real Wife

I stood beneath the pear tree, my hands curling into fists without my meaning them to.

She wouldn't praise him, so I would.

Cecil. After acting for so long, he must be exhausted.

Leah tilted her head and gave a cold laugh. "Which word of yours am I supposed to believe?" She shook off Cecil's hand and asked, voice like ice, "If you'd stayed faithful to her, I might have given you some credit. But your cheap excuse for love makes me sick."

"Cheap?"

"I grabbed someone at random and married her, just so I could play at being happy. That wasn't a marriage to me, it was a performance. I lived with her day and night, I gave her everything I had, and my heart stayed cold the whole time. I couldn't make myself love her. I close my eyes and all I see is you. And you call that cheap love?"

"Leah, you call that cheap love!"

Cecil came apart, gripping Leah's shoulders, his voice shaking.

"My eldest brother gave me an ultimatum. Either I find someone and marry, or I cling to you like a fool and never see you again for the rest of my life. He said if I married, he'd bring you home in three years. So the next day I grabbed the first person I could find and married her, and I played the part for three years straight!"

Each thing he said landed heavier than the last.

Word by word, like stones, they dropped against my chest.

Cecil knelt in front of Leah, his face working through something he couldn't hide.

Almost begging, he said, "I'm asking you. Don't do something reckless."

"You're a Henson, I'm a Sullivan. Why can't it work? If I really go to my father, he'll agree to it."

"Your aunt might not agree to the divorce."

Leah's foot stopped mid-step.

The two of them fell silent again.

When they looked at each other, there was something in it words couldn't reach.

If it had been anyone else, I really would have been moved for them.

But the man standing there wasn't anyone else. He was my husband.

I slipped away without a sound and sat alone at the foot of the bed, staring at nothing.

I hadn't been desperate to marry Cecil.

I hadn't loved him from the start either.

I'd been about to marry my childhood sweetheart when Cecil snatched me away by force.

And then, in the small things over three years, I'd fallen for him bit by bit.

At the moment I loved him most, he brought it all down on my head.

It was deep into the night when Cecil came back.

He flicked on the light. "Still up?"

I'd only just noticed. "Look. The pear tree we kept for three years has withered."

He went blank for a second. "What?"

"I mean, let's get a divorce."