After nearly five decades together, my husband sat me down and said he wanted a divorce. No warning. No softness. Just blunt words that hit like a truck.
I asked him if he was serious, hoping maybe it was a bad joke or a moment of frustration. But instead, he smirked and replied:
“Come on, Nicky. You can’t honestly say you didn’t see this coming. We both know there’s nothing left between us. I don’t want to spend my last years sulking around. I want to live — to be free — maybe even find someone… someone vibrant, exciting… not like you — not like dead weight.”
And just like that, 47 years of love, family, and shared memories were dismissed — like they were nothing but a chain he’d been dying to break.
But he wasn’t finished.
He had more to say — and somehow, it only got worse…