Chapter 2

The next morning, before the sun made it through the curtains, Jonathan's voice cut through the quiet, rough from sleep and already giving orders.

"Summer, are you awake yet? Make me breakfast. I've got an important meeting today, and my shirt better be ironed," Jonathan called out from the bedroom.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds.

I ignored him completely.

I got out of bed with nothing on my face, walked into the kitchen, and went through it like a last ritual.

Fried eggs, bacon, and a glass of warm milk.

Every single morning for over a thousand days of marriage, this was my routine.

I set breakfast on the table, went to the closet, took out his expensive custom shirt, and steamed every inch of it.

He sat at the table, shoveling food into his mouth while scrolling through his phone, tossing out impatient reminders for me to hurry up.

"Hurry up, I'm gonna be late," Jonathan called out.

I handed him the ironed shirt, and he didn't even look at me before he took it and pulled it on.

As he was fixing his tie, he finally looked up from his phone, giving me a once-over with a frown.

"Why are you so quiet today? Cat got your tongue?" he said.

I pulled at the corner of my mouth and said nothing.

"What's with the attitude? It's about money, isn't it? Is that really such a big deal? Women get emotional over nothing," he scoffed.

He slipped on his shoes and opened the door as he spoke.

"I've got a business dinner tonight, so I won't be home. Figure out dinner yourself," he said.

The door slammed shut, cutting off his voice.

I stood in the middle of the living room, staring at this empty house.

Everything in that place, from the couch to the curtains, had been picked out and put there by me.

Our wedding photo was still hanging on the wall. In it, I was beaming with happiness, nestled against him.

Now, that smile was almost painful to look at.

I didn't feel a shred of nostalgia.

I walked into the bedroom and opened the closet. It was packed with his clothes, and mine came to a few sad pieces pushed into the corner.

I grabbed a small suitcase and packed a few changes of underwear, my passport, ID, and all my important documents.

Then I walked over to the dining table and picked up the debit card lying there, the one with three dollars left on it.

I set it down front and center on the table, where he couldn't possibly miss it.

This was the last tie between us.

I stepped up on a stool and reached up to take down our wedding photo from the wall.

In the picture, Jonathan looked tall, handsome, and full of confidence.

I stared at that face, the one that used to make my heart race, and now it turned my stomach.

Without hesitating, I opened the frame, tore the photo in half, and tossed it right into the trash.

Once that was done, I grabbed my phone and called a long-distance moving company.

"Hello, I need to ship some personal stuff. The address is..."

With a steady voice, I gave them my parents' address over the phone.

Every piece of furniture I'd bought before the marriage, all of my books, my vinyl collection, and everything in that place that belonged to Summer Lynn instead of Jonathan's wife was getting packed up and shipped out.

I was going to wipe the slate clean, make this place look like I'd never even set foot in it.

I sent my mother a short message.

I wrote: [Mom, the company is sending me on a long assignment, so I'll be away for a while. Don't worry about me and take care of yourself.]

I didn't say where I was going, or how long I'd be gone.

I didn't want them to worry, and I definitely didn't want to drag them into this mess right now.

In the end, I picked up that small suitcase and closed the door behind me the way a guest would, knowing I'd never walk back through it.

I tossed the keys into the trash can downstairs.

On the way to the airport, the sunlight streamed through the taxi window, hitting my face and making me blink against the glare.

I didn't look back.

Goodbye, Jonathan.

Goodbye to three years of love that was already dead.