Back at home, I faced my spouse once more. This time, I brought the lawyer’s advice with me, hoping it would guide our conversation towards resolution.
‘We need to talk about this account,’ I began, laying it all out on the table. ‘I went to see a lawyer today.’
Surprise flickered across their face, quickly replaced by a guarded expression. ‘A lawyer?’ they repeated, incredulity coloring their voice.
‘Yes, because I need to understand what we’re dealing with here,’ I replied, my determination clear in my tone.
‘I didn’t realize it had come to that,’ they said softly, looking away.
‘I just want transparency,’ I insisted. ‘I need to know we’re on the same page.’
There was a long pause, the silence stretching as if gauging the depth of our shared past. Finally, they spoke, their voice barely above a whisper. ‘I never meant to keep it from you. I just thought… maybe you’d see it as me trying to take control.’
‘But that’s not what this is about,’ I countered gently. ‘It’s about us being in this together.’
And there it was, the hope of reconciliation, fragile but present. We sat there, the weight of unspoken words lingering, both knowing this was only the beginning of rebuilding what had been quietly fractured.
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered.
