Page 12 of The Wrong Husband

But wanting the best for him doesn’t change the truth: we’re over.

I have to make sure he understands that too. For his sake.For mine.

Keeping him here is only postponing the inevitable. He needs to leave. And if I don’t tell him now—if I keep skirting around it—we’ll both stay trapped in something that’s already dead.

I take a breath that barely makes it past my ribs. My hands are clammy. My heart’s pounding so loudly, I swear, he can hear it.

Still—I square my shoulders, count to three under my breath, and push the words out before they can claw their way back down my throat.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” My voice shakes.

I wrap my arms about my waist to support myself.

“I know what I said came as a shock. Perhaps, I should’ve said it sooner. But I kept putting it off because… I didn’t want to hurt you.”

I meet his eyes, even though it makes my stomach flip. “You’re upset now; I get that. But I think you’ll be happier without me, in the long run.”

He doesn’t say a word. Just picks up his glass and takes a slow, measured sip, eyes locked on mine—expression blank, but sharp enough to cut. The silence isn’t passive. It’s pointed. Designed to make me squirm. Ugh! That’s classic Drew.

He doesn’t need to raise his voice or argue. Just sits there, looking wounded and disappointed, like I’ve let him down in some unforgivable way. But I’m not going to let him get to me.

I force myself to keep going, even though my throat’s tight, and my legs are trembling.

I have to. Otherwise, I’ll cave. And I can’t do that—not this time.

“Given we’re no longer together…” My voice dips. I swallow and try again. “I think you should move out.”

My pulse is a freight train. My lungs can’t seem to fill. I feel dizzy. Like I might throw up.

But I said it. The first real step toward disentangling our lives.

The one I should have taken months ago.

His lips curl into a sneer. “You’re so anxious to get me out of your life; you don’t care what happens to me.”

Oh God. I hate these confrontations. I wish I could run out of here and not have to complete this conversation, but I’ve started it. It’s best I see it through.You can do this. Don’t be a weakling. You’re an ER doctor. You’ve faced far worse crises.Somehow, saving someone’s life feels so much easier than trying to salvage my own.

“That’s not true.” I tap my chest three times, taking comfort in the familiarity of the technique I use to get my emotions under control. “Idocare about you. Just not in a way that I want to spend my life with you.”

His eyes narrow, then the fight seems to go out of him. His lips turn down. “You break up with me suddenly. Now, you want me to leave the place I’ve come to call home?”

He looks so pathetic, I feel my resolve waver. I’m such a bleeding heart. I kept putting off breaking up with him… And see where that got me?

Trapped in this house I used to love—this place that was supposed to be mine, my sanctuary. But now, I can’t breathe here. Not with Drew still under the same roof.

It’s my fault for letting it go on this long. For not speaking up. For avoiding the confrontation.

Go on…give him an ultimatum. You owe it to yourself.

I manage to paste on a smile that I’m sure makes my face look sickly. “You don’t have to do so today… But maybe…within the next month?” I lock my fingers together. “Once you find a new place?”

He sets his jaw.

Oh no, he’s going to ask for more time.I don’t want that, now that we’re officially broken up. Seeing him around the house…is stressful. Not to mention, uncomfortable.

When Drew settles for nodding, relief fills me.

“Right then.” I nod briskly. “I’m off.”