Chapter 1

At forty-five, I seemed to have it all with a loyal husband, accomplished children, and a life of comfort.

But one morning, I decided to end it all.

I stripped away the label of the perfect housewife and began my life anew.

What awaited me were unpaid bills, an empty apartment, a forgotten dream of translation, and a foreign book untouched for twenty-three years.

More striking than all of that was the woman I discovered within, someone I barely recognized yet somehow deeply understood.

*****

I stood in the kitchen, slicing cucumbers into thin strips on autopilot. The steady clack of the knife on the cutting board sounded unnervingly loud in the silence of the apartment.

Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting dappled patterns across the floor.

It was an ordinary June morning. My name was Sia Lynch. At forty-five, with twenty-two years of marriage behind me and two children to care for, I was preparing breakfast for my family as usual.

"Mom, have you ironed my white shirt?" my son, Simon Zimmer, called from upstairs.

"It's hanging in the closet," I replied without looking up, my hands still busy.

"Mom, where did you put my jeans? I can't find them," my daughter, Hailey Zimmer, called out right after.

"They're in the bottom drawer of your closet. I just tidied them yesterday," I said with a sigh, putting down the knife and wiping my hands. "Alright, I'll come up and help you look for them."

It was the same old conversation, day in and day out.

Sometimes, I felt like my life was a finely tuned machine, and I was the mechanic who kept every gear running smoothly.

My husband Hector Zimmer's tie had to be laid out on the nightstand the night before. Simon's sneakers needed to be scrubbed every Friday. And since Hailey hated carrots, I always had to set aside a portion without any for her.

All these small routines were like lines of code embedded in my mind, defining the boundaries of my existence.

"Honey, my coffee," Hector mumbled as he shuffled into the kitchen in his bathrobe, eyes still half-closed with sleep.

"One sugar, no milk, at the perfect drinking temperature," I said as I handed him the cup I had already prepared. "You have a meeting at ten this morning. Your suit is ironed and hanging in the dressing room."

Hector took the coffee, nodded in satisfaction, and, not even glancing my way, made his way to the living room to watch the morning news.

I watched him walk away, and a wave of indescribable weariness washed over me.

How many times had this morning routine repeated itself? Four thousand? Five thousand? I had lost count.

Around the breakfast table, my whole family sat together, sharing the morning meal.

Simon was bubbling with excitement as he talked about his upcoming university life. He'd been admitted to one of Berling's top universities.

Not to be outdone, Hailey proudly waved her newly received acceptance letter from a top university in Santigo.

Hector was absorbed in stock market updates on his phone, responding only with the occasional absentminded nods.

As usual, I was the last to sit down, starting on my breakfast that had already gone cold after making sure everyone else's plates were full.

"Mom, my school says freshmen need a physical exam report. Remember to book a hospital appointment for me, okay?" Hailey mumbled through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"Got it. I'll go to the hospital and wait in line this afternoon," I replied, nodding as I absentmindedly took Hector's empty cup and refilled it with coffee.

Hector finally looked up from his phone and said, "By the way, honey, we're having dinner with the Smiths tonight to celebrate the kids getting into good universities. Don't forget to bring that bottle of wine my client gave me."

"Okay," I replied curtly, already mentally listing the day's chores. I needed to buy groceries in the morning, clean the house, wait in line at the hospital in the afternoon, and choose something appropriate to wear for dinner.

My brain was like a computer that never stopped, endlessly processing every single household demand.

After breakfast, Simon and Hailey grabbed their backpacks and hurried out, while Hector, with his briefcase in hand, also headed off to work.

*****

With a bang of the front door closing, I was alone in the house.

I stood in the middle of the empty living room when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over me.

Who was that woman in the mirror? That middle-aged face with dark circles under the eyes, hair loosely tied back and dressed in worn-out loungewear. Who was she?

I leaned closer to the mirror, gently tracing the wrinkles at the corners of my eyes with my finger.

Forty-five. I was already forty-five years old. Most of my life had slipped away, but how many days had I truly lived for myself?

The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. I staggered backward a few steps before collapsing onto the sofa.

A heavy weight stirred in my chest, tightening into a pressure so thick that I could hardly breathe.

I looked around the home I had cared for over the past fifteen years, where everything was always in order and nothing out of place. But now, it felt like a stranger's house.

Mechanically, I stood up and began clearing the dishes from the table.

Under the running water, I found myself staring blankly at the soap suds, my mind drifting far away.

I'd been Hector's wife for twenty-two years. From the hopeful girl I was at twenty-three to the weary woman I saw now, my life had slowly faded into the repetition of everyday tasks.

That afternoon, as I stood in the packed hospital registration hall, waiting in line, my phone rang. It was Hector.

"Honey, dinner's moved to six. Mark says his daughter has tutoring. And remember to iron my blue striped shirt, I need it for a client meeting tomorrow," Hector instructed.

"Mm," I replied and hung up, barely reacting. I kept my eyes fixed on the snail-paced queue ahead.

My feet had gone numb from standing, but the emptiness in my heart was far more unbearable than any physical discomfort.

*****

At six o'clock that evening, we arrived promptly at the hotel's private dining room.

Mark Smith and his family were already there, along with several of Hector's other friends and relatives.

The private dining room was festively decorated, with even a bright red banner on the wall proclaiming: [Congratulations to the Zimmer family on their children's prestigious university success!]

"Mrs. Zimmer, you're truly blessed. Your husband is so successful, and your children are doing so well," Mark's wife, Miranda, said warmly as she held my hand.

"Mrs. Zimmer keeps such a beautiful home and has raised such outstanding children. She's a role model for all of us," another lady chimed in.

I forced a stiff smile, my face feeling alien to me.

Hector stood beside me, beaming with pride as he occasionally patted my shoulder as if I were another trophy in his collection.

After a few drinks, the conversation somehow turned to who took care of which household tasks.

"You know my Mark," Miranda said with mock exasperation. "Bless him. He can't even operate the washing machine. It drives me up the wall."

Hector, flushed from drink, pointed at me and laughed. "My wife handles everything, laundry, cooking, cleaning, and more. I don't lift a finger at home. Honestly, she is the family's workhorse."

The private room erupted in laughter.

My face instantly flushed crimson as my fork slipped from my hand and clattered onto the table.

All eyes turned to me, yet no one noticed the shock and hurt flashing through my eyes.

Hector didn't even realize how hurtful his words were. He kept clinking glasses and chatting with others, completely oblivious to the impact of what he'd said.

Hector raised his glass proudly and said, "Here's to my wife, the backbone of our family. Without her keeping things running at home, I couldn't focus on my career, and our kids wouldn't have made it to top universities."

I stared at the man I'd shared a bed with for twenty-two years, suddenly struck by how much of a stranger he seemed.

To him, I was just the supportive wife, the workhorse, and a mere cog keeping the family machine running.

Had he ever thought I was a person, too, with my thoughts, feelings, and dreams?

"I'm going to the restroom," I mumbled, and then rushed out of the private room.

In the bathroom mirror, my face was ghastly pale. I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face, but it did nothing to quell the fire raging in my heart.

Twenty-two years of memories blurred into a single, painful reel—lonely nights, unmet needs, and sacrifices no one ever acknowledged.

When I returned to the private room, the dinner party was already winding down.

Hector, his face flushed crimson from drinking, had his arm slung around Mark's shoulders as he loudly held forth.

The kids had already wandered off, glued to their phones. My absence went unnoticed, and my return unacknowledged.

*****

On the drive home, Hector sat drowsily in the passenger seat while I wordlessly gripped the steering wheel.

In the backseat, Simon and Hailey chattered animatedly about their upcoming college life, their voices brimming with youthful anticipation and excitement for the future.

And yet I felt like a zombie behind the wheel, mechanically going through the motions.

That night, I lay unmoving in bed, listening to Hector's steady snoring beside me. My gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling until dawn broke.

As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the curtains, I made the boldest decision of my twenty-two years.