Her laughter floated through the phone, and all I could do was listen as she comforted Ben. “Just focus on your health, okay? Our child can’t wait to call you ‘Daddy.’”
In her mind, I was just an accessory, something to be discarded when I no longer served her purpose. I took a long, steady breath and texted her: “Naomi, I’ve drawn up the divorce papers.”
“Come home whenever you’re ready to sign them.”
A moment later, she called back, her voice sharp. “Are you really trying to scare me with this? Eli, grow up. Ben’s dying, and I want to give his parents something to hold onto. You can’t even understand that?”
In the past, I might have fought for her, tried to convince her to see things differently, to stay by my side. But now, I was just tired.
She laughed again. “You know what, Eli? Go ahead. You’ll regret it. And don’t forget to leave your keys behind. I don’t want to find you lurking around like some stray dog.”
With that, she hung up, leaving the line silent. I felt hollow as I looked around our home, realizing it had never really been mine. Our life together, the five years we’d built, crumbled in an instant. Without another word, I walked out, dragging my suitcase to the door.