Now? Couldn't care less. Even if, say, Josie's off having my fiancé's kid, it doesn't bother me.
I've already made up my mind—I'm leaving.
As I was walking away, Peter suddenly shouted.
"Babe!"
He called out to stop me.
"Well, I just brushed my teeth. Got rid of the cigarette smell. How about we… sleep together?"
I didn't turn around.
And Peter desperately got up and hugged me from behind.
"Babe, we're getting married in two weeks. Isn't this what you wanted? A home?"
A home?
Those words hit so deep that my eyes got welled up.
Yeah, I'd wanted that, dreamed about it for eight years.
Ever since my mom passed away so early, I’d craved security and a place to belong. I’d hoped to build that with Peter.
But then I realized his life was always going to be a mess.
He'll never really let go of Josie.
If this is how it's gonna be forever? Then I'd rather be homeless.
I took a shaky breath, pushing his hands away.
"Let's just talk about it later."
With that, I left the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind me.
Last night, I stayed up late writing my resignation letter, and I handed it in first thing this morning. My boss called me into his office to talk.