Chapter 7
After three years of marriage, all of Chelsea's belongings fit into a single 24-inch suitcase, and it was still only half full.
As she zipped it up, the sound of the TV downstairs kept going. Chelsea stood in the upstairs hallway and suddenly thought, 'Will this place change after I leave?'
Probably not.
Jeffery would still head out early and come home late, still eat the bland meals the housekeeper cooked, still sit on the couch watching pointless shows.
The only thing that would be different was that the warm yellow nightlight in the entryway would be gone.
But he probably would never even notice.
Just like he never noticed when that nightlight first showed up.
As Chelsea dragged her suitcase downstairs, Jeffery's eyes flicked away from the TV and landed on her for a moment. "You're leaving?"
"Yeah," Chelsea replied.
"It's late. Why not wait until tomorrow?" The warm yellow light in the living room softened his sharp features, making him look gentler than usual, almost like there was something in his eyes she couldn't quite read.
Chelsea leaned her suitcase against the wall, looked at him, and asked the same question for the second time. "Jeffery, is there anything you want to say to me?"
The first time she asked was at Amber's birthday party, and he said, "That dress looks nice on you."
What would he say this time?
Jeffery stayed quiet for a few seconds. The variety show on TV kept going. A guest cracked a joke, and the audience was cracking up, which only made the silence in the living room feel even more uncomfortable.
"Take care," Jeffery finally said.
Chelsea let herself smile, suddenly and freely.
It wasn't bitter or mocking, a real, liberating smile, the kind that came from deep inside.
Chelsea was finally certain she'd made the best decision. If someone could only say "take care" as she left in the dead of night with her suitcase, he was not worth wasting three years of her life on, and definitely not worth another second.
Chelsea grabbed the handle of her suitcase and headed straight for the door.
At the entryway, she crouched down, unplugged the warm little nightlight, and gently placed it in her bag. She swapped her shoes and opened the door. The November wind swept in, so cold it made her shiver.
Without looking back, she stepped out into the heavy night. The wheels of her suitcase clattered over the stone path, the sound growing softer and softer until it disappeared from Jeffery's world.
Jeffery sat on the couch, and the TV was still going full blast, but he couldn't hear a thing.
His eyes were locked on the empty socket in the entryway, black and hollow, like a tooth pulled out. It starkly made his heart clench.
He'd never given that little nightlight a second thought before. But now, that empty socket felt like a bottomless pit, churning up an uneasy feeling he couldn't quite name.
Jeffery picked up his phone, his fingers instinctively opening Chelsea's chat. He typed, "Did you get there?" then deleted it. He tried again, "Be careful," but hesitated and deleted that, too. In the end, he sent nothing, flinging his phone aside in frustration.
What was he even so worked up about?
She was the one who wanted the divorce. He'd agreed to it, kept things civil. He'd never cared about this marriage anyway.
But why did that empty socket suddenly make him feel so hollow, like something important was missing?
Jeffery couldn't figure it out.
Chelsea sat in the taxi, leaning against the window, watching the neon lights stream by. When the driver asked where she was headed, she gave him the address of Cindy Watts, her best friend.
Her phone buzzed. It was Cindy texting her. Cindy: [Are you really going through with it? Did he say yes?]
Chelsea: [Yeah, he said okay.]
Cindy replied instantly with a string of ellipses, then a furious rant. Cindy: [Is he out of his mind? Three years of marriage, and all he says is okay? Chelsea, how much have you put up with these past three years?]
Chelsea didn't reply. She let the screen go dark.
The taxi stopped at a red light, and Chelsea caught sight of a bakery window. There was a birthday cake inside with a big "3" candle on top.
She suddenly remembered that it would be her third wedding anniversary with Jeffery in three days.
Jeffery probably already forgot.
Even if he did remember, he wouldn't give a damn.
As the taxi started moving again, Chelsea caught her own reflection in the window. No tears, no anger, just a sense of peace after being free. It was so pure that it felt like a blank page.
She remembered a line from The Great Gatsby: "What you have lost has never truly belonged to you in the first place.
Right. She never truly had Jeffery. So losing him didn't count.