Chapter 3 - THE PERFECT WIFE|
Dominic arrived at the hospital forty minutes later.
I was standing beside Margaret’s bed, reviewing her medication schedule, when he entered wearing his charcoal business suit and the silver watch I had given him for our fifth anniversary.
He looked first at his mother.
Then at Vanessa.
Finally, his eyes settled on me.
He pointed toward his ears, the familiar gesture he used whenever he wanted me to remember that conversation was supposedly difficult for him.
I stared at him.
For three years, that gesture had ended countless conversations.
This time, I did not move my lips more slowly or reach for my phone.
I simply said, “Your hearing aids are at home.”
His hand dropped.
The room became silent.
Gabriel had apparently warned him that I might discover something, because Dominic did not immediately look confused.
Instead, he studied my face.
“What did you hear?”
Every word was perfectly clear.
I almost admired how quickly he abandoned the performance.
“Enough.”
He glanced at Margaret and Vanessa.
“Can we talk privately?”
“No.”
“Emma.”
“You’ve had three years to talk to me. I’m done waiting for my turn.”
Vanessa stood up.
“Perhaps I should leave.”
“No,” I said. “You should stay. I would hate for anyone to miss the truth this time.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“This is complicated.”
“Then explain it simply.”
He looked toward the window.
“My hearing returned after surgery three years ago. The doctors said the recovery was unusual, but complete.”
“And you never told your wife?”
“I intended to.”
“When?”
He said nothing.
“After I stopped asking questions? After you had a child with Vanessa? Or after your mother decided I was useful enough to keep around but not important enough to tell?”
Margaret gasped.
Dominic stepped closer.
“You’re making this worse than it needs to be.”
“No. I’m finally seeing it as it is.”
He lowered his voice.
“I didn’t want constant arguments. You always wanted to discuss our relationship, the fertility treatments, the future. I needed peace.”
“So you pretended to be deaf.”
“I needed space.”
“You could have asked for space.”
“You wouldn’t have understood.”
The answer was so effortless that I realized he had rehearsed it long before I caught him.
I looked at the man I had once trusted with every fragile part of myself.
“Did you ever love me?”
His expression shifted.
For one brief second, I thought I saw shame.
Then he said, “I cared about you.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He exhaled sharply.
“Emma, you were good to me. You made my life easier. You helped my mother. You built a home I could return to.”
“A home,” I repeated. “Not a marriage.”
He did not deny it.
I took the folder from my purse and placed it on Margaret’s bedside table.
Inside was the preliminary divorce petition Rebecca had prepared that morning.
Dominic looked down at it.
“What is this?”
“The beginning of my life without you.”
He stared at me as if I had spoken a foreign language.
Then he gave a small, disbelieving laugh.
“You’re not serious.”
“I have never been more serious about anything.”
I walked toward the door.
Behind me, Vanessa whispered Dominic’s name.
He did not answer her.
May you like
For the first time in three years, he seemed unable to find the right words.
And I discovered that silence could be more powerful than any argument.
