I stared up at him, towering above me.
I'd never seen Otis as a stranger before. But in that moment, he became one—and I finally shattered.
"Otis."
"Let's get a divorce."
I was sobbing uncontrollably, begging him.
"Otis, please. Just let me go."
He didn't agree.
He just watched me fall apart with that detached coldness, then dropped a single line before walking away.
"Debbie."
"You're not thinking about yourself."
"But what about your mother?"
Right.
My mother was still in the ICU.
The entire medical team—Otis had personally arranged for them to care for her. Even if only for Mom's sake, I had to endure. I could only endure.
So I kept swallowing it all, right up until today.
I stared at my phone, at the messages Jemima kept sending. I tapped on the latest video.
Otis was clearly drunk, holding Jemima close as he spoke.
"Debbie won't divorce me."
"Even if she doesn't stay for me—"
"—she'll stay for her mother. Because of her mother. No matter how far I push her, she can only take it."
A dull ache bloomed in my chest. I'd long accepted that Otis and I could never go back to what we were. But hearing him weaponize my weakness so casually—it still cut deep.
I listened as Jemima asked him why.