Once again I heard those words. But what good were apologies? I didn’t need their apologies at all. I wanted them to taste the bitterness I had endured.
Alexander helped me lie down and tucked me in before leaving.
I only opened my eyes after hearing the door close.
9
D
I stood under the shower, trying to wash away the fear and terrible memories.
That day I went to bring Alexander some things. When I couldn’t reach him by phone, I went straight to the faculty housing and had the building manager let me in.
I had only been there once when we were dating. He brought me, and I never came again after that.
While waiting for him to return, I decided to take advantage of the nice weather and hang his clothes and bedding out on the balcony to air out.
At the bottom of the closet, wrapped in a blanket, was a box. Out of curiosity, I opened it.
Inside was a diary and some photos.
They chronicled Alexander’s relationship with another woman. Looking at the similar outfits and hairstyles in the photos, I understood. I was just a replacement.
How laughable. My husband’s love and care for me all stemmed from another woman.
Most of my clothes were bought with Alexander. He chose my hairstyle too, saying it looked better.
It wasn’t that it looked better. It just looked more like her.
Suddenly the door opened. Seeing the scene, Alexander wasn’t flustered, but angry. He packed everything up and dragged me home.
“Olivia, you’ve overstepped, was all he said. He didn’t even try to explain.
“Alexander, am I just some replacement in a story? If I’m not the one in your heart, there’s no reason for us to be together.”
“Olivia, we’re already married. That won’t change.”
We had a huge fight – or rather, I yelled and screamed while Alexander watched coldly.
We started giving each other the silent treatment. I ignored him, but he continued treating me the same as always – preparing breakfast in the morning, waiting for me after work.
As if nothing had happened. But I couldn’t pretend.
I cut my long hair and dyed it light brown. My already fair skin looked even paler.
When I got home, Alexander saw my changes and suddenly went crazy, throwing me onto the couch.
“Who gave you permission to change your hair?”
“Olivia, be a good girl. Nothing has to change. But if you try to change anything, you’ll lose everything you have now.”
Alexander’s threat echoed in my ears. I had never seen this side of him before.
Once he calmed down a bit, I formally brought up divorce.
Alexander refused.
