Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

MARLOW

T his surreal moment of being in the spotlight still hadn't fully sunk in. I sat with my shoulders back and my back straight. I knew the photographer was snapping pictures. If my mother saw me slouching, she would not be happy. And it just looked bad. I kept my chin up to avoid the look of a double chin or, as my mother lovingly referred to it, a wattle. No turkey neck here.

"Are you enjoying working for your new company?" the interviewer, Laura, asked.

"I am." I nodded. "I'm loving the team aspect. It's been amazing working with so much talent."

"I can imagine," Laura replied. She wore a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. I wasn't sure if they were necessary or for looks. "And how have you found the transition from your previous job working alone? It must be quite different working for a company after years of flying solo."

I shrugged my shoulders lightly. "It's been a learning curve for sure," I said. "But I've always thrived on challenges. This is no different."

"And what would you say is the biggest challenge you've faced since joining?" she continued, her pen poised over her notebook.

I would say Spencer's horrible attitude, but I didn't want this to be one of those interviews. I wasn't spilling any tea. Unlike him, I was a professional and I could control my emotions.

"I think the scheduling." I laughed. "My assistant and I are used to setting our hours. But it's been so much fun we don't mind."

She continued asking probing questions about my thought process and how I managed to get to where I was today. I felt grateful for the opportunity to share my story and was excited to see how it would be portrayed in the article.

Thankfully, she never ventured into talking about my divorce or personal life beyond my hobbies and what I liked to do when I wasn't working. I appreciated her respecting my privacy. This was for a business magazine, not a trashy tabloid.

"I think that's all I have," she said, smiling. "Thank you for being such a good interviewee."

"Thank you for being good at your job and going for the story and not the gossip."

"Of course."

We were each given bottles of cold water, which I desperately need after all that talking.

"So, off the record, how have you really been?" she asked quietly.

I frowned. "What? I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you mean."

"Your heart," she said. "How's your heart? I went through a divorce last year. It was the most difficult, stressful, and brutal experience of my life."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

"I never imagined my marriage would end," she said. "But one day I hit a point of no return, and I knew things would never go back to how they were."

I felt the same way. I nodded feeling like she had walked in my shoes. "My ex and I were madly in love when we got married," I said, memories flooding back. "I thought he was my soulmate. He used to dote on me, spoil me rotten, and come home dead tired but still happy to see me. He'd kiss me, tell me about his day over dinner, ask about mine. The usual standard stuff. We laughed a lot. He was affectionate."

"What changed?" she asked, leaning forward.

"My career took off," I answered with a sigh. "I got busier and started making more money than he was. Soon, I was the one coming home dead tired, and he didn't like the way our roles shifted. He told me he was happier when he came home to a clean house and a prepared meal. And you know what? Sometimes I think I was happier then too."

She nodded, watching me. I hoped like hell I could trust her. It would destroy Dakota to hear me talking like this. We both knew what broke up our marriage, but neither of us had really talked about it.

"I get it," she said.

I sighed and shook my head, the confusion of those days still very fresh. "It's all so confusing. I thought I had the life I wanted. But after this and the purpose and fulfillment my career brought me, I couldn't go back to being the woman I used to be. I want to be this version of me. I happen to like this version of me."

"Me too." Laura laughed softly. "I would say your clients feel the same as well."

"I hope so."

"So, was it gradual or did it happen suddenly?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I would say gradually. We fought all the time. He would try to undermine me at every turn. He did everything in his power to assert his dominance over me."

"Really?"

I groaned and took another drink. "Yes. Anytime we were around my friends or family, he wanted everyone to know he wore the pants in the family. He wanted me to essentially be his waitress and his maid, while completely ignoring the fact that I was working just as hard, if not harder than him. And what's worse, he expected me to be happy about it."

"That's brutal," she said.

I sighed heavily. "It was so difficult. For a while, I tried. I really, really wanted to make him happy. I wanted our marriage to work. I tried to be everything he wanted while also pursuing my career and trying to keep up with the demands of my job. But eventually I realized that wasn't love. That was control, and I didn't want to live under someone else's thumb."

"Good for you," she said, her eyes shining with encouragement and understanding.

"I would have rather been lonely by myself than lonely in a marriage," I said.

"You felt isolated," she said.

"Yes." I nodded again, happy she seemed to understand. "It became humiliating. Everyone at work took me seriously and respected me, but my own husband? He just wanted to keep me under his thumb. I didn't want to be at home. It was so tense and stressful."

"Did he ever try to change?" she asked, her gaze unblinking, her attention fully on me.

I shrugged, remembering the few failed attempts at therapy we attended. "He said he tried but…" I faltered, my voice choked with emotion. "It was all too little too late. He tried changing when he saw that I was slipping away. But by then, the damage was already done."

Laura nodded but didn't press further. There was an understanding in her eyes that made my heart ache. She had been there too. She knew the pain and the struggles. "Forgiving is easier than forgetting," she said.

I smiled. "Exactly. It did hurt. He made me feel like I failed him somehow. When I started making the money, we bought a house together. I made sure he was the one that had the final say so he didn't feel like I was making all the decisions. We had nice cars and were able to go out to nice dinners."

"Just like he would do if he was the one making the bigger paycheck," Laura said.

"Exactly." I nodded. "He liked spending the money, but he didn't like that I was the one bringing it in. One night, he went on a shopping spree. I was pissed, not because he spent the money, but because it felt like he did it out of spite. When I questioned why he bought the stuff, he lost his mind. He erupted into an angry tirade."

She scoffed. "I'm sure he did. Like he was going to get back at you."

"He wasn't happy with the lifestyle I provided. He was only content if I was the obedient wife he desired."

"I understand," Laura said solemnly. "You still blamed yourself for the failure of your marriage."

I was taken aback at her perceptiveness. Indeed, I did feel guilty. "Yes, I did," I admitted, avoiding her gaze. "Despite having a successful career that many would envy, I couldn't help but feel like I had failed my husband and our marriage."

Laura nodded sympathetically. "That makes sense. How did it end?"

"I left him," I said, not relishing the moment.

Laura nodded, her gaze still fixed on me, encouraging me to continue my story.

"He was out of town for a few days," I said, transported back to that moment. "I had the house all to myself. It was strange. Almost surreal. There were no arguments, no yelling, no belittling comments. Just blessed silence. I didn't miss him. I think that's what surprised me the most. I thought it was going to be difficult to sleep alone."

"And it wasn't." She laughed.

"Oh my gosh!" I laughed too, feeling a little bad. "I slept like a baby. It wasn't just because I didn't have to share the covers. There was a sense of peace that washed over me. I hadn't even realized I was so tense. It wasn't until I woke up the following morning and was drinking the coffee I loved and he hated that it hit me. With him, I was miserable. Without him, I was free." The memory was bittersweet. "I'd been so afraid of being alone but in that moment, I felt relief."

Laura's eyes widened. "That must've been a profound realization."

"Yes, it was. I reflected on how much I'd changed during our marriage. The woman who once valued her independence had become someone she barely recognized. And for what? To please a man who was never satisfied?" I shook my head.

"That's not an easy thing to face," Laura said gently.

"No, it's not. But it was essential in understanding what needed to happen next. So, I waited. Waited until he got back to have the conversation. We sat at the kitchen table, the very same one we'd bought together when we first moved in, and I told him I was leaving."

Laura's eyes widened in surprise. "How did he react?"

"He looked stunned," I responded, feeling a pang of guilt. "And then he got angry. Started yelling about how ungrateful I was, throwing our life away. And for a moment, I almost backed down. Almost let his words change my mind. But then I remembered those days he was gone, how peaceful it had been."

I paused, taking a deep breath as I remembered the strength it took to stand my ground in that moment. "I didn't argue or fight back. I just stood up, looked him straight in the eyes, and said it wasn't about being ungrateful or whatever. It was about being happy. And then I walked out."

She was quiet as she digested my words. "And was it—are you?" She stumbled over her words.

"Happy?" I finished for her.

She nodded. "Yes. Are you happy? Fulfilled?"

"Yes." I couldn't stop smiling. "It was so hard, especially considering his connection to my brother, but it was worth it. I'll admit it was hell those first few weeks and months, but I knew I couldn't go back."

Laura gave me a proud smile. "And look at you now."

I grinned. "And look at you."

"Two bitches making moves." She laughed.

"Cheers to that," I said, raising my water bottle.

We clinked our bottles together and both took a drink.

"I'm proud of you," Laura finally said, breaking the quiet. "You've come so far."

I let out a small chuckle, the compliment settling comfortably on me. "Thank you. I hope to keep going. I'm not ready to stop. There's so much more I want to do."

"Never stop fighting for your happiness," she said seriously. "I hope I get to interview you again when you make it to the next level."

"Make sure you write a glowing article, and we might just be able to arrange that," I replied.