Happily Never After

Divorcing Not the "One"

Happily Never After

She met him in the back of a bar. There he was this tall, dark, and beer goggle (those were on thick that night) handsome, sitting on a stray keg on the "smoker's porch" hidden away, and out the side door. She was there with friends, he happened to be there with the same friends, celebrating a birthday. Their eyes met, smiles were exchanged, and a whirlwind of a moment later they found themselves exchanging vows only nine months after the moment their eyes found each other. He married her for all the wrong reasons, she married him to have a false sense of security.

The marriage was rushed. They had won a contest to be apart of 99 other couples and participate in the largest wedding in Las Vegas. She felt like it might not be right, but she wasn't right in her head. Her dad had died only a month before. The day he died, she had lost her best friend, her rock, her confidante. This was the only man he had ever expressed a liking for, so she thought, maybe... just maybe, this was a sign from him that this was the man she was to be with. This was the man who would be her new best friend, her new rock. They got ready, the packed up, and off they went to Las Vegas to get married. The whole time, there was still something in the back of her mind, screaming at her, "Don't fucking do this! He is not 'the one.'" She begged it to shush, attempted to shut it out by getting wrapped up in the festivities of it all. Yet, there it still was, screaming. It caused her to second guess the whole thing, but she was committed. She had told them "yes," she had committed to marry this man she barely knew. This man she had only known for nine months. None of it seemed or felt one hundred percent right, but she didn't want to let anyone down, especially not her dad, who she knew was watching from above.

After a wedding, that wasn't really a wedding, and after running around Fremont Street, she found her way into the luxurious tub to soak her sore muscles, and relax before packing up to head home the next day. While she soaked in the tub, she overhead her brand new husband talking to her brand new mother-in-law on the phone. She smiled to herself to know that sitting out in that room was her forever, her husband, her new best friend. As she relaxed, she listened into their conversation, hoping to hear him rave about how wonderful his new wife was, and how much he loved her and was so excited to start their new life. Instead, she heard him start to talk about how he will no longer have anything financially to worry about. He told her, "She has money, so I'm set." There were no sweet words of love, affection, or excitement for their future. There was just concern for his financial well-being, and in that moment, her smile faded, her heart sunk to the pits of her stomach, and she heard that little voice in the back of her head scream, "I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO!!"

After hearing the soul-crushing words leave the lips of her husband, she cried tears of sadness. Sadness for what she thought would be, sadness for what she thought could be, and sadness for realizing the mistake that she had made. Maybe she had heard it wrong? Maybe she had twisted words in her head, and those weren't the things he really said? She made the decision to not confront him, she didn't want to ruin their wedding night, she didn't want to destroy the beginning of what was supposed to be her forever, The night that was supposed to be filled with love and passion had become filled with sadness, frustration, and regret. She walked out of the bathroom and he was already sound asleep in their bed, sprawled across the mattress where she only had a small space to squeeze in. She curled up into the cramped spot, and quietly wept. She drifted off into a restless sleep, hoping that this wasn't a foreshadowing of the future to come.

She constantly heard him brag about their financial standing. He spent money like it grew on trees, but when she were to buy anything for herself he would question why she needed new clothes, new shoes, items for school. Once, while standing with a group of friends, they were comparing their wedding rings. Instead of showing his ring, he pulled a credit card out of his wallet and said, "When I got married, I got platinum!" When he said this, she was standing across their massive kitchen, in their far too expensive and ginormous house. She was standing in a group of friends, drinking to celebrate their new home. Her smile hid the tears of being reminded of the wedding night, of the conversation with his mother. He never treated her as his wife, but more as the roommate who supplied him with financial stability. He spent thousands in the years they were together. He spent his time spending, watching TV, playing video games, and making her feel less than. If she ever mentioned how she felt, she was verbally berated and occasionally hands were laid on her. He would push her, or punch her in areas that no one would ever notice the bruising. She began to fear for her safety, her life. There was moments where he had threatened her. Where he had told her that his best friend was in prison, and when he got out he wouldn't mind hurting someone for him. Those words stuck in her brain for years, she couldn't shake them. Even after years, it deterred her from mentioning divorce, or any other resolution to this unhappy life they have found themselves in. She feared that she wouldn't see many more years of life if she had. Either by his hands, or the hands of someone else that he had found so his hands wouldn't be dirty.

Six-and-a-half years. Six-and-a-half years is how long the forever lasted. She finally had had enough. She had had enough the day that they had found themselves in a heated argument once again, and she found herself pinned against a wall with hands pushing on her chest while struggling to breathe. She had had enough when he continuously told her that her life was worth nothing without him, and that she needed to stay with him to stay alive. She had had enough when she attempted to walk away, run away, to get somewhere safe and he had physically restrained her from doing so.

A monster lived inside the man that she had married. A monster that hid during their short courtship, and over the years had evolved and shown himself more and more. She knew it was time to end it, and she finally had the strength, the support from her friends, and the courage to do so. She waited for her moment, the minute where she could tell him what she wanted, and be able to escape the situation of what was to come after. They were in the midst of yet another argument, and she looked at him and told him she was done. She was no longer going to be his wife, and that she wanted to separate. He stood there, stunned, not knowing what to say. She grabbed her purse, her keys, and the front door knob. She was in her truck, and gone. She wasn't going to stay for whatever the aftermath of the words that she said was going to be. Hours later, she returned home and he was sitting on the couch, playing video games, like nothing had happened. She sat across the living room from him, and reminded him that he needed to find a place to live. That they were no longer together and she wouldn't be apart of this marriage any longer. He ignored her, acted like she wasn't there, but then after an extended pause, he made eye contact with her. Intense eye contact that sent chills down her spine, that made her feel as though her life may end that night. He acknowledged that they were no longer together and said he would be moving out.

After a month, he finally found his apartment and moved out. She was relieved. She could finally breathe again. He found a million reasons to come to the house when she wasn't home. To see the dogs, to mend a fence, but he was really snooping, trying to find a reason for why his wife had left him. And one day... he found it...

To be continued...

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Mistress Mayhem
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