So I told him he could keep his mother. He already had.
I left without screaming or crying. Just walked out and chose myself.
Now I’m divorcing at thirty-six. His family tells people I snapped. That I couldn’t handle being a “real” wife. I think about Dolores sometimes and understand what she tried to warn me about.
I still want a family. I still want children. I just refuse to raise them in a world where their mother has to apologize for existing.
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