The tyres screeched as James slammed his palm against the steering wheel. How can you not see? This will ruin our marriage!
Emily exhaled, regret heavy in her chest. She never should have come. He had asked for her help closing up their cottage for winter, and shed agreedbut four hours trapped in a car with him was too much.
The late autumn air was bitter. Rain had poured all week, but today, the skies had cleared. Together, they sealed the cottage against the coldpacking away dry goods (mice loved an unattended pantry), draining pipes, boarding shutters. It felt like draining the life from the place, locking it into hibernation until spring.
Just as they left, sunlight spilled over the garden plots. Their cottage stood hunched, abandoned. A lump rose in Emilys throat as she buckled into the passenger seat.
She felt like that house. Standing, but hollow. Walls intact, roof secureyet no light inside. Every window shuttered tight.
Marriage had become suffocating. She had wanted out for so long but didnt know how to escape the quicksand of it.
From the second day of their marriage, James had made her doubt herself.
*”Come here,”* hed snapped from the kitchen. *”Why did you open a second carton of milk?”*
*”I didnt see the first one.”*
*”What were you looking with?”*
Shed stared. *With my eyes.*
*”Is your eyesight alright?”* Mock concern dripped from his voice.
*”Fine.”*
*”Is the milk carton invisible?”*
Tears pricked her lashes. What crime had she committed to warrant such cruelty over nothing?
He did this constantlysummoned her, ridiculed her, demanded corrections. *Do you understand? Are you even normal?*
By the second year, she wasnt sure she was.
Then she learned the word *gaslighting*. Psychological torture, designed to make you question your own mind. *Maybe somethings wrong with me.*
At work, Emily was sharp, efficientflawless under pressure. But at home? Every step was a landmine.
Her coping mechanism was simple: on bad days, *do something*. Fold laundry. Bake a cake. Organise a drawer. Anything to prove the day hadnt been wasted.
*”Why are you staring at the bloody windowsill?”* James would sneer.
She wasnt. She was staring at the order shed clawed back from chaos.
Then came the job offer.
Manchester. A four-hour train ride away.
She accepted instantly. It felt like divorce, but without her having to choosecircumstances did it for her. *Perfect.*
James raged. *”This will destroy us!”*
*”No,”* she whispered. *Not this.*
Once, at her godsons birthday party, thered been a science show. The entertainer asked, *”At what temperature does liquid nitrogen boil?”*
The childrenfive years oldstared blankly. So did the adults.
*”Negative 196 degrees! Now, which country invented ice cream? Come on! It starts with Ch…”*
*”Chocolate?”* her godson guessed.
Emily had watched, struck by the thought: *This isnt for them.* They were too young to grasp it.
Just like her marriage.
Marriage was for grown-ups. Stifling. A bus with sealed windowsone person always complaining of a draft. A relentless tug-of-war between air and suffocation.
When shed stepped onto this bus, shed imagined it spacious, scenic. A journey with a partner whod catch her scarf if the wind stole it.
Instead, shed spent years believing *she* was the problem. That she wasnt *built* for marriage.
But she knew the truth now.
*Distance wont kill us. What will is that you dont love meyou just need someone to torment. Im not wrongyouve just convinced me a second milk carton is a felony. Its just milk. You dont see me. You choke me with words. The only things Ive gotten good at are silence and apologies.*
*Our love died long ago. The funerals overdue. Divorce is just the headstoneoptional, but official. Im boarded up in this marriage like our cottage. Only its not seasonal. Its a life sentence. And I refuse.*
*I want Manchester. Ive never been, but its better than herebecause you wont be there. There, my milk is just milk. My mistakes are just mistakes. There, Ill be normalbecause the only place Im not normal is inside your head.*
She didnt say it aloud. Some tormentors didnt even know they were torturers. Arguing was pointlesshed only twist it, prove *she* was the unstable one.
The car halted at a red light.
Emily unclipped her seatbelt and stepped out onto the wet tarmac. Because the most dangerous place in the world was staying beside him.
