Divorcing You This Time

TRIGGER WARNING • This chapter contains sensitive topics, such as depression, severe health issues, and suicide. Please proceed with caution.

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I used to love Christopher Houghton more than anything, even more than myself.

I loved him so much that I sacrificed every piece of my heart and even my soul... And I spent most of my life trying to make him love me back.

He was my first love... my first and only love — and the reason of my downfall.

Christopher’s bright brown eyes and darker hair mesmerized me. His calm, composed, yet attentive aura warmed my chest from that very first moment.

I didn’t know a heart could beat so strongly. I didn’t know it was possible to have butterflies in my stomach, but they existed inside me and fluttered every time I saw Christopher. And it continued like that for years, many years, until they started dying, one by one, leaving me so empty that it hurt.

There was a hole in my chest and a torturous need to fill it. At some point, the pure love I felt turned into a deep obsession. I wanted to have him. I wanted him to love me… and I needed him to love me.

But the church bells have always rung in my head, even after all these years. It happens when I close my eyes to sleep and even when I’m alone in this room. That damned sound, which once marked the happiest moment of my life, turned out to be my worst nightmare.

The preacher asked, “Charlotte, do you take this man as your husband?” And I said, “Yes, I do,” with the brightest smile in the world.

But if I had known, back then, that these ten years with Christopher would be a true misery… What would I have done?

Struggling, I reach out to my belly with my frail, bony hand. I gently stroke it, despite knowing my child is no longer with me. He’s been gone for so long, never cradled in my arms — and this agony cuts deeper than any other in my failing body.

I know I’m dying. I’ve been dying for a long time. Inside, outside. A piece of me every day. Not only have I given in to the disease, but I’ve also surrendered to the sadness that’s painted my days gray. Even though outside, the sky remains clear, and the sun continues to shine as always, inside this room is a different story — at least for me.

Now that I think about it, death has always been around in my life, huh? The first time my world collapsed was at the age of five. Too young to understand, I lost my parents in a tragic accident. My earliest memory is my aunt, Amelia, my mom’s younger sister, taking me in and caring for me like her own until I was twelve… when she, too, left this world in a car crash.

Sometimes, I wonder if things would have been different if the people I loved most hadn’t left. Would I be going through all this if Marshall Houghton, the Earl, hadn’t adopted me?

Even after twenty years, I can still picture the first time those grand estate gates swung open. Grandpa’s voice echoing and saying, “This is your home now.”

Grandpa, if you could see me now, would you regret tying my fate to your grandson’s?

If you knew my smile back then would lead to years of tears, resentment, sadness, and hatred, would you have entrusted me to Christopher?

Now, in this painful moment, I remember the words of that woman… the one who caused me the most despair — my husband’s ex-girlfriend.

[…] “Are you happy, Charlotte?” Evelyn’s malicious smile will be forever imprinted on my mind. “You spent ten years trying to make him love you, but all you did was make him hate you more. Your husband hates you so much that he doesn’t care if you’re dying, and he didn’t even care when he lost that damn child of yours. Do you know why? Because Christopher despises you, Charlotte… He despises you more than anything. The only happiness you can bring him now is to die.”

I know that.

Christopher and I have only hurt each other in these ten years of marriage.

[…] “If only you had signed the divorce papers when that old man died… But no, you kept trying to make our lives a living hell. And now, look what happened… Karma is collecting its due.”

I still can feel how Evelyn slid her hand over the machine, touching the tube that returns the blood back to my body, as she said, […] “But it really breaks my heart to see you in this state… Should we finally end your suffering?”

As she said, if only I had signed the divorce papers, maybe things could have been different.

Honesty… Why did I cling to such a miserable life?

Why am I stuck in this decaying body, this broken mind that can’t find any trace of happiness anymore?

I’m tired.

I’m so damn tired.

If I had known that my love for him would be my downfall, I would have killed that feeling from the start.

If I had known, ten years with Christopher would have been this nightmare... I wouldn’t have tried so hard for his love — I wouldn’t have sacrificed everything for him.

My biggest regret is not signing those damn divorce papers.

“I’m tired,” I say with a low voice, almost a whisper, my throat dry and swollen.

I pull the cables carelessly, yanking out the catheter deeply entrenched in my arm; this makes my blood trickle from the small wound, staining the fancy wooden floor.

My head feels heavy and blank, and everything spins, vision darkening. Still, I force my body to comply and plant my feet on the ground over the slippery blood.

With a deep breath, I obey my trembling, weak, thin legs to support this skeletal body of mine, but of course, I can’t. I haven’t stood up on my own in a while, and I’m too nauseous and dizzy from the recent hemodialysis.

I lift my head and look towards the balcony to see the light coming from outside. The curtains sway, and a pleasant breeze enters the room, reminding me of the feeling of freedom... something I lost a long time ago.

No, something I threw away myself.

I crawl across the floor, staining my clothes with my blood, using my brittle nails to scratch the wood as I force my knees. Slowly, I reach the balcony — and the world unfolds before my eyes.

The sky is blue, and the garden trees, so green, sway freely in the wind.

Free.

If I had the chance to be free... I would live life on my terms, doing everything I couldn’t.

If I had a second chance, I would seek only my own happiness.

I would make every day count...

And I would live for myself without regrets.

I lean my arms on the balcony railing and muster the strength to stand, finally on my feet.

“God...” I call out, looking at the sky, and pray, “Please, at least let me be with my son.”

I take a deep breath and, with extreme difficulty and shaking limbs, climb onto the thick concrete railing.

The wind tousles my hair and brushes against my skin, and for the first time in many years, I feel at peace.

I close my eyes, listening to the rhythmic beats of my tired heart... And without hesitation or fear of the death that has been embracing me for so long, I let myself fall… surrounded by a welcome, warm darkness — shutting down my emotions for the last time.

…

…

…

… The glass slips from my hand, shattering loudly on the floor and startling me. My eyes widen, and my pupils dilate as a sharp, painful ringing fills my ears. I groan and instinctively try to cover my ears, waiting for the dizziness to pass and my vision to clear.

“I died, right? I definitely died. So what is this, life after death?” I mutter, my gaze shifting down to my feet, noticing the water flowing beneath my white high heels. “What the...”

The words vanish from my tongue when I finally lift my eyes and meet the mirror before me. A shocked shout escapes my lips, and I stumble back, slipping on the wet floor. My head falls back along with the rest of my body, catching a glimpse of the ceiling before my body hits the ground. The sharp pain robs me of my breath, and my vision blurs.

Tears fill my eyes, streaming down my flushed, lively cheeks as I focus on this impossible sight.

No way… Did I come back in time?