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It was afterwards she reflected on why it was she allowed herself to let it happen, time and again.
It wasn’t as if she was a weak woman, she knew she had backbone, she knew what she wanted in life, but around him, she was as impotent as she could imagine.
She found herself succumbing to his advances.
They were always so reasonable, and she did have a soft spot for him, after all, they had been married a long time.
He knew too that he could manipulate her, appeal to the guilt that rode along with her every moment of the day.
One mention of the past, of her relationship with Maisie and the guilt, flooded over her and she found herself without a leg to stand on.
So she’d fall into his arms, as if there she felt safe when deep down she knew it was more a way of placating him than herself.
She had grown to dislike conflict and found it easy to ‘sell her soul’ rather than put up a fight and stand up to him.
He promised her things would be different that he had reflected on his ways and saw he needed to be more considerate and understanding and for the first few days took her out for lunch or dinner, offered to do more around the house and showed an interest in the blog she wrote.
But that was always short lived.
He found fault in so much she did. When he asked about her interests, and she shared with him her blog writing, he became a ruthless critic, told her how he thought it might be done even when he knew nothing about what it was she was doing.
His criticisms destroyed her love of the one thing she thought she was good at. So it was easier to do her writing when he wasn’t around.
It wasn’t long before her life descended into the same old, same old, once again.
She would avoid him at every opportunity, feigned interest in sex, became a lump of flesh he used, her self -esteem plummeted, and she looked once again for a way out.
He was oblivious to the impact he was having on her, cared only that she was there to cater to his needs and didn’t question what he did in his own time.
Thinking his life was secure, his marriage a model for any who looked in on it, he was surprised when he found her note. He was more surprised when he found she had taken the savings, stopped the flow of money from her account to his and then suggested he leave and not come back.
His usual overtures fell on deaf ears. He was left with nothing. He abhorred the notion of having to work.
But there was no other option.
She, on the other hand, watched from afar, awaiting the day the bank would call and say he had to leave as they were foreclosing.
She waited for the bank manager’s call to say he had gone. A quick transfer of funds and the house was hers.
This time she told herself she would stand alone.