Emma's POV
"You're leaving me?" Adrian repeated, like the words didn't make sense. "Emma, what are you talking about?"
I kicked the suitcase further under the bed, my heart hammering. "Nothing. Forget it."
"You just said you want a divorce—"
"I'm tired. You're tired. Let's talk tomorrow." I tried to walk past him, but he caught my arm. His touch burned like fire.
"Emma, look at me."
I couldn't. If I looked at him, I'd break. Five years of loving this man, and one touch still made me weak.
"Please let go," I whispered.
He did, immediately. Adrian never forced anything. He just took me for granted instead.
"Did something happen?" His voice was careful, like he was talking to a stranger. "Did I do something wrong?"
Did he do something wrong? I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He'd done everything wrong for five years, and now—on the night I finally found the courage to leave—he wanted to know what he'd done?
"You forgot our anniversary," I said quietly.
"I know. I'm sorry. Work was—"
"Work is always crazy. You're always sorry. And I always forgive you." I finally looked at him. "I'm tired of that pattern, Adrian. I'm tired of being the understanding wife while you give everything to your company and nothing to me."
Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise? Guilt? I couldn't tell anymore. I used to study his face for hours, trying to read his emotions. I'd given up years ago.
"We can fix this," he said. "I'll do better. I'll come home earlier, we can have dinner together—"
"Stop." I held up my hand. "You've said that before. You never change."
"This time will be different—"
My phone rang, cutting him off. Vivian's name flashed on the screen.
Adrian saw it too. His whole body went stiff.
I answered before I could think better of it. "Hello?"
"Emma! Finally!" Vivian's voice was too loud, too cheerful. "I've been trying to reach you for hours. Did you get my text?"
"No, I—"
"I'm coming home tomorrow! Can you believe it? Paris was amazing but I'm so done with my ex-husband. That man was a nightmare." She laughed, that tinkling sound that made everyone fall in love with her. "I need my family. Can I stay with you and Adrian for a while? Just until I find my own place?"
The room tilted. I grabbed the dresser for support.
"Vivian's coming here?" Adrian's voice was sharp. "Tomorrow?"
"Is that Adrian?" Vivian squealed. "Put him on! I want to say hi!"
"No—" I started, but Adrian took the phone from my hand.
"Vivian." His voice changed. Softer. Warmer. The way he never sounded when he talked to me.
I watched my husband smile—actually smile—as he talked to my sister. "Yeah, of course you can stay here. How long do you need?"
He didn't ask me. Didn't check if I was okay with it. Just invited my sister to live in our home like I didn't exist.
"Great, see you tomorrow," Adrian said, then handed back my phone. "She already hung up."
I stared at the phone in my hand. Then at Adrian. Then at the suitcase under the bed.
"You just invited her to stay here," I said slowly. "Without asking me."
"She's your sister. I figured you'd want to help her."
"My sister who you were in love with. My sister who broke your heart. That sister."
Adrian's face went blank. "That was five years ago, Emma. I'm over it."
"Are you?" I asked. "Because you just smiled at her voice more than you've smiled at me in our entire marriage."
"That's not—" He stopped. Ran his hand through his hair. "You're being dramatic."
Dramatic. He thought I was being dramatic.
"Get out," I said quietly.
"What?"
"Get out of this bedroom. Sleep in your office, sleep in the guest room, sleep wherever you want. Just get away from me."
"Emma—"
"NOW!"
I never yelled. In five years, I'd never raised my voice at Adrian. The shock on his face would have been funny if I wasn't falling apart inside.
He left without another word. The door closed softly behind him.
I pulled the suitcase out from under the bed and kept packing. Faster now. Messier. I threw in shoes and books and the jewelry he'd bought me for birthdays he forgot—expensive gifts that were supposed to make up for his absence.
My phone buzzed. A text from Vivian in our family group chat:
"Can't wait to see everyone tomorrow! Emma, I have SO much to tell you about Paris. And Adrian... it'll be good to see you again. We have a lot to catch up on. 😊"
That little smile emoji felt like a knife.
Another text came through, this one just to me:
"Between us? I'm glad I'm divorced. I realized I made a mistake five years ago. Some choices you regret forever, you know? See you tomorrow, little sis."
My hands started shaking again.
What mistake? Choosing Paris over Adrian? Rejecting his proposal?
Was Vivian saying she regretted leaving him?
I looked at the texts, then at my packed suitcase, then at the bedroom door Adrian had just walked through.
My sister was coming back. The woman Adrian had loved—maybe still loved. The woman who was beautiful, successful, confident. Everything I'd tried to be and failed.
And she regretted leaving him.
I could leave tonight. Grab my stuff and disappear before Vivian arrived. Before Adrian had to choose between us. Before I had to watch him look at her the way he'd never looked at me.
But something stopped me.
Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was stupidity. Maybe it was the tiny, pathetic part of me that still hoped Adrian would choose me if given the chance.
I put the suitcase back under the bed.
Tomorrow, Vivian would arrive. Tomorrow, I'd see if my husband's heart really belonged to my sister. Tomorrow, I'd know if five years of marriage meant anything at all.
I lay down on the bed, still fully dressed, and stared at the ceiling.
My phone buzzed one more time. Another text from Vivian:
"PS - Don't tell Adrian, but I'm bringing someone special to meet the family. 😉 It's complicated, but you'll understand when you see. Love you!"
Someone special?
My stomach dropped.
Was Vivian bringing a boyfriend? Or was she playing games, trying to make Adrian jealous?
I didn't sleep that night. I just watched the clock tick toward morning, toward the moment my sister would walk through the door and destroy whatever was left of my marriage.
And the worst part?
I still didn't know if I wanted to fight for Adrian or run away while I still could.