After forty-seven years of marriage, Nicky thought nothing could surprise her anymore. She had stood by her husband, John, through every challenge—tight finances, bitter arguments, and long, quiet nights when love felt more like endurance than passion. But the day John said he wanted a divorce, it felt like the floor vanished beneath her feet.
“Divorce? John, tell me you’re joking,” she said, her voice trembling.
He leaned back in his chair, smirking. “You can’t say you didn’t see this coming, Nicky. There’s nothing left between us. I’m tired of living like an old man trapped in routine. I want to feel alive again. You… you’re just not it anymore.”
Her hands shook. “After forty-seven years, this is what I get?”
He shrugged. “I’m not asking for much. Just a fair share.”
Nicky’s expression hardened. “You’ll get nothing. You want freedom? Fine. Go find it. But not with my money.”
John’s eyes turned cold. “You’ll regret that.”
An hour later, he was gone—after draining their joint savings. “I’m off to Mexico,” he said, suitcase in hand. “Used up our savings for the trip. Let’s see how long you last without me, Nicky.” Then he walked out, leaving her with nothing but silence and a house full of memories.
At first, Nicky felt hollow. She had devoted her life to this man, raised children while he complained, and held everything together when he didn’t. But little by little, her sadness turned into strength. She refused to crumble. She started selling homemade jams, baking cookies for local markets, and helping out at the library. Each small victory reminded her that she could stand on her own.
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