I was exhausted. Tired of being unappreciated. Tired of giving everything and getting nothing in return. I needed to breathe, to clear my head. So, I made a decision—I was taking a break from my marriage.
I packed my bag, got in the car, and just drove. No destination in mind. Just me, the road, and the promise of space. But life had a way of complicating things.
Miles from home, my car sputtered and groaned before it gave out completely. Great. Just great. Stranded in the middle of nowhere, my only option was a small motel nearby. What started as a simple getaway soon became something much bigger—an unexpected reunion that changed everything.
“Well, he doesn’t hit you, he doesn’t cheat, he doesn’t drink. What are you complaining about?”
I had heard it so many times that it felt burned into my brain. My friends, my parents, even my coworkers—everyone said the same thing, as if that was all that mattered in a marriage.
But what about love? What about kindness? What about respect?
I had spent years swallowing my feelings, convincing myself that this was normal. That my unhappiness was my own fault. I had followed all the rules. Done everything right.
And yet, here I was, feeling more alone than ever.
The kids were grown and out of the house. Now, it was just me and Tony. And without distractions, the truth was clearer than ever.
“You don’t clean well enough.”
“You never learned to cook like my mother.”
“You should do more.”
The words were knives, cutting me over and over. Not because they were new, but because they never stopped.
I worked just as much as he did. In fact, I made more money. But when I got home, I scrubbed floors, washed dishes, folded laundry—all while he sat on the couch, watching TV, acting like I owed him something.
One evening, it finally happened. The moment that broke me.
Tony was stretched out on the couch as usual, staring at the television.
“Carmen!” he barked.
I sighed, my hands covered in flour as I kneaded dough for dinner. I wiped them on my apron and kept working. “What?”
“Come here! Right now!”
I clenched my jaw. Slowly, I walked into the living room. He didn’t even look at me. Just pointed at the TV.
“Why is there dust on the screen?”
I let out a short laugh, the kind that wasn’t funny at all. “If you don’t like it, clean it yourself.”
He scoffed. “Who’s the woman in this house? Me or you?”
My hands balled into fists. “I worked all day. Just like you. And now I’m making dinner while you sit here doing nothing.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “That’s your duty. Sarah from work has a job too, and she still takes care of her husband. And she looks amazing while doing it. Unlike you.”
That was it. Something inside me snapped.
I ripped off my apron and threw it on the floor. “You think she’s so perfect? Go live with her! Or clean your own mess! I’m done!”
I stormed upstairs, heart racing. I yanked open the closet, grabbed a suitcase, and started throwing clothes inside.
Tony’s heavy footsteps followed me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“On vacation,” I shot back. “I deserve it.”
He laughed, but there was panic underneath it. “You’re really gonna leave me here alone?”
I zipped up the suitcase. “I need to think about whether I even want this marriage anymore.”
His mouth opened, then closed. Maybe he thought I was bluffing. Maybe he thought I’d calm down, apologize like always. But this time, I wasn’t stopping.
I grabbed my bag, my car keys, and drove off without looking back.
I had no plan, no real destination. I just drove, the road stretching endlessly ahead.
I stopped at a gas station to refuel and grab a drink. Inside, I reached for a water bottle when I felt someone staring. A man stood at the counter, eyes locked on me.
Familiar eyes.
He studied me like he was trying to piece together a memory.
“Do we know each other?” I asked, frowning.
A slow smirk spread across his face. “You once told me you’d never forget me.”
My breath caught. That voice. That smile.
“David?” I whispered.
He chuckled. “Long time, huh?”
I hadn’t seen him in years. My first love. Standing right in front of me at a random gas station.
Of all places. Of all moments.
Was this a sign?
David owned a small motel nearby. When my car broke down right after I left the gas station, he was the one who found me.
“Looks like you need a mechanic,” he said, smirking as he leaned under the hood.
“Great. Just what I needed.” I groaned.
“I know a guy. While you wait, you can stay at my motel.”
I hesitated. But what other choice did I have?
The mechanic told me my car would take a few days to fix. That meant I was stuck. But surprisingly, I didn’t mind.
David and I spent nearly every moment together. Morning coffee at the diner. Late-night talks under the stars.
One evening, as we sat on the terrace, I finally asked, “Do you ever regret that we broke up?”
He met my eyes. “Every single day.”
The words hit deep. Before I could think, I leaned in. And then his lips were on mine.
That night, I woke up in his bed.
Then reality hit.
I had cheated.
I grabbed my phone. A message from Tony.
I know I haven’t been a good husband. But I love you, Carmen. Please forgive me. I’ll change. Just come home.
Tears blurred my vision.
Tony had promised to change before. He never did. And yet, I had betrayed him.
I packed my bags, ready to go back. But then, I overheard something outside.
David was talking to the mechanic.
“Well, that was quite the scheme you pulled,” the mechanic said, shaking his head.
David crossed his arms. “I had to make sure she stayed.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?” I stepped out, voice shaking.
David’s face paled. “Carmen, wait—”
“You broke my car?! You lied to me?”
His hands reached for mine. “I did it for us.”
I yanked away. “No. You did it for you.”
Anger burned through me. I marched to the mechanic. “Keys.”
Without hesitation, he handed them over.
I climbed into my car, heart pounding. David took a step toward me, mouth open—but I didn’t wait to hear what he had to say.
I pressed the gas and drove away.
I wasn’t going back to Tony. I wasn’t staying with David.
For the first time, I was choosing the one person who truly mattered.
Me.
