A relationship that was meant to last forever suddenly didn't. Bothersome, tiring, stupid, how much did Stella think that she had to pay just to be tied to another person? Cain was a beast, nothing short, that she had carried on her back for so many years, and now that she dared to walk away, the remaining bastards all came running to her door, no comfort in their mouths. Didn't they see the way it was killing her, squeezing all the life and everything that made her beautiful away? Everyone was busy saying their truths, not allowing her to tell them hers. Forget it. Girls like her couldn't stay with boys like Cain. He was a nightmare, and it was time that she woke up.
They had first met at Papa's Café, where he would always drive around to order a cup of hot chocolate. On time, every morning. Stella had wondered if his smile was directed at her or if it existed for everyone else in the restaurant that was not her, and she had spent nights wondering if he purposefully walked up to her at the counter, where there were always others there too, even if she was busy, to order on time, every time. And once, he didn't come. Stella was moody, worried even, more estranged at her thoughts and their heavy dwelling on a stranger to whom she had never once sat down to talk. And then, she kept on wondering what all her wondering meant, her IQ zeroing in on it but never quite grasping it. It was something that she laughed at now, a stain on her brain and thought processes. But later that night, he came, all smiles, and he didn't order coffee. He only asked her if she missed him, bastard asking a total stranger, and she said yes, idiot not questioning the logic behind this question. She wished she had said no so that she wouldn't have to cry now and be sad that she was leaving him, and he was leaving her, for good this time.
Finally, it was over. She was done packing and about to leave. That line of action was patterned in her head, rooted in her brain; over and over, she had walked from wall to wall, acting out her lines, making up for the gaps on her side with all her inventory of knowledge on the man that she had once loved with all her heart. Yet, it was now that Stella was realizing the gross mistake of it all, and it was sad that she still felt this way after all she had been through. Her friends paraphrased it like that, telling her that her ordeal was beneath her and that she didn't deserve it and all this shit that Cain was giving to her. And they said in such a manner that she wondered if they thought her blind not to see their greedy eyes, staring at her 6 feet 2-inch husband with the Cadillacs and trips to the Bahamas every month. She should get divorced, and Cain wasn't worth it. Stella had agreed. But now, she wanted to sit and think if this was okay. Yes, Cain was a bastard who married her in the end and got off chronically cheating on her. Yet, there wasn't a mistress. It was just cheating with random girls who would never get to share his name, wealth, and kids. Sometimes, she felt that it was some sort of affection for her in some distorted manner that Cain was used to. He used to love her, once. Once upon a time, she used to love him. In fact, it was hard to say that they didn't love each other in some way with how a joint account, children, and a shared toilet made one feel. Her position was enviable, somewhat honorable if she could make it till they were both gray-haired. He would make it; she didn't doubt. But all her coffee and heavy sleeping medications may not really save her. She had madam president, a wealthy wife, and the pinnacle of life written on her forehead, her kids were now teenagers in good schools abroad, and her husband still shared the joint account with her. Stella decided to check the balance and reached for her phone. The app displayed over a million dollars. Did she really want to divorce this man? Who was to say that she wasn't being used as a steppingstone or gun for some other bitchy woman who wanted this position? Stella thanked her stars and reached to unpack. And then, the door opened to reveal Cain, standing in the doorway, his presence potent. His eyes roamed the room and rested on her now open luggage, clothes spilling out.
'Where are you going to?'
Stella was grateful that he just came in. Five minutes early would have ended it all. Not good.
She knew what he meant. How could she not after seventeen years together? He was asking because he knew and was waiting for a reply.
'To church.' She didn't bother wasting time.
Stella could see the outline of her husband's lips where it curved at the left, suppressing laughter.
'Church?'
"Yes."
"With that box?"
"No."
"What is that box for then?"
"Donation to the Salvation Army." Her side of the wardrobe was bare.
"All of it?"
"Yes."
"Even the one that I bought you three weeks ago from Milan? And your favorite sweatshirt?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"We have the money to buy thousands more."
"True, wife. Can I accompany you?"
"Why not?"
Yes, why not?