Status: On hiatus

Falling

Chapter Thirteen: Destroy Your Reputation

I went home. Why? You might be asking. Well, to grab a few of my things before Chris, in a fit of rage, set fire to them. Just my luck he was home and not out golfing or whatever it was he did most Saturdays. I walked into the house and headed for the stairs. He was in the kitchen, I heard him making a lot of noise. “Dylan.” His voice boomed
I kept walking up the stairs. I grabbed an overnight bag and filled it with clothes, my laptop, a pair of sneakers and my toothbrush. Everything else could wait. Chris stormed up the stairs.
“'To whom it may concern',” He quoted as he entered the room, my note in hand, I had forgotten all about it. “'This seemed like the only way'.” He continued. “'I wish I could say I was sorry, but as many of you have pointed out, I'm too selfish for that. - Dylan.' Sweet and moving.” He wiped away a fake tear.
“So you found it. 'Bout time.” I grunted out, my irritation at an all time high.
“So you're leaving?”
“Yes.”
He laughed loudly. “And going where?”
“Like you care.”
“I do care.”
“Highly unlikely.”
“I'm not sure what caused you're little breakdown Dylan.” He threw the note to the floor. “But you need to snap out of it.”
“Or what Christopher, you'll have me institutionalized?”
“If it needs to come to that, yes.”
“You're unbelievable. I'm not crazy.” I shouted.
“You tried to kill yourself. I'd say you're not far from it.” His voice to had risen in volume.
“I guess it doesn't make you look good with all of your wealthy friends, huh?” I moved closer to him, “Having a wife who did something so unspeakable, something so embarrassing. I've ruined your reputation.” No wonder he wasn't out with his buddies, they didn't want him around anymore. I stood directly in front of him now. “And it makes you sick, I make you sick admit it.”
I should have seen it coming, his hand slapped my face. The sound was loud in my ears, I stumble backwards as the stinging sensation set in. My eyes watered a little as I stared at him. His eye were wide in shock, he couldn't believe it either. I always knew there was a day when he would try to hit me, I just didn't think it would be today. I stepped away from him until my back met the wall.
“You hit me.” I said in shock.
His face recovered. “Shit happens.”
“Shit happens? Shit happened?” I yelled back at him, as I cradled my cheek. “Asshole!” I went back to my bag and finished my packing.
“I wish you had died.” I turned my face to him. He said it so calmly it sent a chill down my back. Then I laughed.
“That would have been real convenient for you, huh?” I grabbed the bag and headed towards the door. He blocked my way.
“I gave you the world.”
“Correction, you gave me grief and pain and false hope and heartache. And you could have given my syphilis because of all the woman you've screwed.” That shut him up for a moment. I walked pass him and down the stairs.
“I never slept with anyone else.” He yelled after me.
“Save it for someone who cares.” I hiked my bag further up my shoulder and went out the door. For once Chris followed. Neighbors be damned, he was pissed.
“Get back in there.”
“Why? So you can hit me again.” I said it loud enough that our neighbor Mr. Fitch, who was watering his lawn heard. He glanced between Chris and I.
“I never hit her.” Chris said to the man who wasn't buying it. My cheek might have been evidence enough. Chris turned back to me. “I'm not done talking to you.”
“But I'm done with you. We're done, completely. Finito.” I threw the bag in the car then I got in and slammed the door.
“Dylan stop this right now.”
“A divorce will do us both some good, don't you think?”
“You'll be back.” I gave a crazy grin, he backed up a step. I peeled out of the driveway and away from my soon to be ex husband.