When I Leave, Love Disappears

The next day, Raymond came home early, which was unusual. I sat at the dining table, eating my breakfast without bothering to look up when I heard him walk in. He stopped in front of me, his face darkening when he realized I hadn’t prepared his usual breakfast. With an irritated grunt, he threw his phone onto the table.

“Are we really doing this again? You want this to turn into another fight, like last time?”

His words took me right back to our first major fight. That day, just like last night, I had refused to make love with him. Furious, he threatened to go see Lidia. I hadn’t stopped him. I didn’t call, didn’t text and didn’t chase after him. The next morning, I took the divorce papers straight to his mother’s house. He showed up minutes later, pale as a ghost, dropping to his knees with tears streaming down his face.

He had told me then that every time I rejected him, he felt abandoned—like I didn’t love him anymore, like I was planning to leave him. He admitted that in his anger, he’d called Lidia right in front of me just to provoke me. But he swore he regretted it the moment he stepped out the door and instead of going to see her, he’d met up with his friends to drink away his frustration.

My mother-in-law had been in tears, too. She’d tried to console me, saying men have fragile egos and that when they feel rejected, they act out. “He loves you too much,” she’d insisted. “That’s why he lashes out. Don’t you see? He’s scared of losing you.”

I didn’t believe him at first, but when his friends confirmed his story and even showed me the bar receipt from that night, I began to waver. Eventually, I gave in and started to trust him again.

Later, I spoke with a friend who studied psychology. She told me that men like Raymond often need extra reassurance in such situations. So, I tried my best. I began walking on eggshells around him, constantly trying to calm him down. When he stormed out, I’d flood his phone with calls and texts, apologizing until he came back. He would block me and I’d have to reach out to his friends just to get a response.

But last night, I slipped back into my old habits. I ignored him completely. And now, as he stood in front of me, demanding attention, I didn’t even bother to look his way.

“No,” I said simply, putting down my spoon. I wiped my mouth with a napkin, stood and gathered my dishes to take them to the kitchen.

Behind me, the sliding door slammed as Raymond barged in, the loud crack echoing through the house. I looked back to see the glass door had actually cracked. I raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? Has your inferiority complex turned into full-blown rage now?

Raymond froze for a moment, his face flushing with anger. “You think that’s funny? Let me tell you something, Ari—your little stunts don’t work anymore. You refuse to do your duty as a wife and you still think you have right throwing a fit? Go ahead, pull your drama. Let’s see who sides with you this time.”

I placed the dishes in the sink, my movements calm and deliberate. When I turned around, Raymond was standing in the doorway, blocking my exit. Without hesitation, I pushed past him and went straight to the bedroom. Lighting some incense, I lay down on the bed and started massaging my feet while texting an errand boy to pick up supplements for me.

After that, I decided to treat myself. I splurged on high-end skincare products shopping spree. Raymond followed me around the house like a lost puppy, wrinkling his nose at the scent of the incense that lingered in the air.

“What is that smell?” he complained, waving a hand in front of his face as if he could fan it away. “It’s awful! Do you even realize it’ll stink up the place for days? Can’t you air it out or—”

Before he could finish, his phone started buzzing non-stop. He picked it up, looked at the screen and his face went pale. “Ariana, are you out of your mind? You just blew three months’ worth of my salary!”

I glanced at him, unbothered. “Didn’t you say I was starting to look worn-out? Well, fixing that takes money, Honey.”

In the past, I’d been frugal for his sake. He only earned four grand a month and I worked hard to stretch every dollar, scrimping and saving out of love for him. I thought I was building a future for the two of us. But here I was, pouring everything into our home while he and his little mistress laughed behind my back, mocking me for looking worn-out. Sure, I had been head-over-heels for him, but I wasn’t a fool.