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He sat there a day and a night,haggard,refusing to believe I was dead.
Finally,he staggered up,face streaked with dried tears.
He sat for a day;I hovered nearby for a day.
The home he avoided was now useless to him.
Something suddenly dawned on him. He rushed to the study, rummaging frantically.
I panicked.
He was after my diary.
As a bored housewife,I wrote—stories,thoughts,diaries.
I never hid it from him.
He found it easily,opening to the last entry. He opened the diary eagerly, his hands trembling slightly, and turned to the last entry.
The day I left.
One line:Nathan Caldwell,never again.
Tucked inside was my diagnosis.
He broke down,sobbing uncontrollably.
He remembered my call that day,how I tried to tell him.
Too late.
After charging his phone, he started reading my diaries. Three notebooks were filled with the records of our six - year marriage.
The first notebook was filled with lively entries.
Day 1 as a housewife:Boring,but seeing Nathan make breakfast made me happy.
Nathan’s swamped with work, coming home late every night,but I get to cook him midnight snacks.
The entries grew flat,my spark dulled by six years of domesticity.
Every word dripped with resignation.
Who’d choose this without love?
Even Nathan saw how I’d faded.
No kids,no burdens.
So when Emily showed up,he cheated without hesitation.
While I waited for him to celebrate my birthday, he was with Emily, sorting out the details of her case.
When I called about my illness,he was in bed with her,hanging up to not wake her.
He wanted to slap himself.
He called Ethan,then left again.
Three days later,he tracked down the Oregon hospice I’d stayed at.
The owner,a young woman in her twenties,was surprised when he asked about me.
She shook her head,claiming ignorance.
I’d instructed her to say nothing.
Nathan didn’t buy it.“No way.She lived here a month.You know her.”
“Sir,if you’re not staying,please leave.”
“I’ll stay!”
She gave him my old room.
I’d prepaid two months but died after one,so it was vacant.
Nathan entered,catching my familiar scent—my favorite diffuser.
He grew excited,thinking I might still be here.
The room was filled with the signs of my presence.
He saw it.
By night,he hadn’t found me.
He lay down,sleeping soundly for the first time in days,clutching the blanket and whispering my name.
