“When my dad left,” Ryan continued, “she fell apart. I was all she had. And she made sure I knew that.”
“How?”
“She’d get sick whenever I spent time away. Panic attacks. Fainting. Doctors couldn’t find anything wrong.” He let out a hollow laugh. “But it always worked.”
“And when you met me?”
“She hated it.”
“Then why did you marry me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looked at me, eyes filled with conflict. “Because I love you.”
My chest tightened.
“Then why does it feel like I’m competing with her?” I asked.
He didn’t hesitate this time.
“Because you are.”
The truth hit harder than any lie ever could.
“She made me promise,” he said. “That no one would ever replace her. That she would always come first.”
“And you agreed?” I asked.
“I was young. I didn’t know how to say no.”
“And now?”
He looked at me helplessly. “Now I don’t know how to break it.”
The room felt too small.
Too heavy.
“I can’t live like this, Ryan,” I said. “I can’t be second place in my own marriage.”
“You’re not—”
“I am,” I cut in. “Every time she calls, you leave. Every time she needs you, I disappear.”
He didn’t argue.
Because he couldn’t.
The next morning, I packed my things.
Not in anger.
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