Four little words
I have to tell him.
This can't go on any longer, it's not good for both of us.
I know I've been sick recently and put it to a stupid stomach bug. Denying the truth.
I even lost a couple of pounds. Which isn't a bad thing when you're a model like me. But not healthy.
As the situation is, I can't blame it on a bug anymore. Because things have been going on like this for too long. It has to stop.
Maybe I have to face the fact that it might be the worry that's making me sick.
Worry about Ken.
Every time the phone rings, I'm dreading to pick it up, for fear it'll be my call to come to the hospital, that he's been injured. Every night until he's home, until he kisses me and pulls me in his arms, I fear that it isn't him coming up the stairs but his Captain, telling me that he's dead.
I did my best to support him, but I can't live like this anymore.
I told him we needed to talk tonight but I don't want to hurt him.
This isn't the life I'd thought we'd have when we married and it's only gotten worse after he became a cop.
I've tried to figure how to tell him, but I'm no closer to finding the right words, even after a week.
I have no choice, it's going to hurt. Both of us. No matter what.
He's looking so hopeful, eyes glowing with delight as he jumps out of the car. I can see him through the kitchen window, hear him coming through the door. I know I will destroy that soon with four little words.
"I want a divorce."
I can see the light in his eyes die.