Her voice dripped with arrogance, knowing full well that even if I did mind, it wouldn’t change anything. Gilbert would never care about how I felt. Whether I was happy or not had never mattered to him.
I looked at her, then at Gilbert and for the first time in years, I felt nothing but an empty calm. "No, I don’t mind," I said quietly. "In fact, I won’t mind in the future either."
Gilbert’s eyes widened in disbelief. He seemed genuinely stunned by my response. He had grown so used to me loving him unconditionally, no matter how many times he hurt me. He couldn’t fathom that I could now be indifferent.
"Lily, what do you mean?" he asked, his voice uncertain for the first time.
I met his eyes, my voice steady, "Gilbert, let's get a divorce." There was no anger left in me, no sadness—only a quiet finality.
The pain of losing my son was unbearable and with his departure, my love for Gilbert vanished completely. I stood there, numb and hollow, watching the man who was supposed to be by our side, now acting like nothing was wrong.