Story 3
On that day, the weather was average. The weather by the sea is generally mediocre, but the charm of pinkish-blue waves in the morning compensates for it. Every morning, I go down to the shore and observe the sunrise with great attention and curiosity, as if it were a continuation of my favorite series on Netflix. And in a way, it kind of is. Every sunrise is different. Each sunrise marks the end of a unique night and the beginning of a unique day. Waking up early and drinking coffee by the sea has become my routine. Today’s sunrise was supposed to be exceptional. Today, everything was going to change.
My husband came back late from a night out with friends, as he said. Most women know that feeling. That unfounded and unsupported by any tangible evidence feeling that something is wrong. At first, when he told me about the trip, I felt just a slight prick inside, hearing a strange change in his voice tone. I tried to tell myself that it was just my insignificant intrusive thoughts. That not everything I think and sense must be true. Unfortunately, in this case, I was right.
I sip my lukewarm coffee with oat milk and feel the cool sand between my toes. I usually walk along the coast to the south, but today I spontaneously head north. I like to walk early like this because I am alone, everyone is still asleep. Only the birds accompany me and enhance the sound of the waves with their singing. It fills me with complete peace. It’s quite unusual considering what I plan to do today.
Women have many gifts, and one of them, one that could make life easier, but unfortunately often complicates things, is intuition. We have it to sense danger and escape before it’s too late. Unfortunately, in today’s times, we often ignore it too easily. I, too, ignored my intuition for some time, but today, for the first time in this matter, I will listen to it. Today, I will tell my husband that I want a divorce.
As the waves wash over my ankles, I feel them caress and cleanse my soul. I love the beach so much. When I finish my last sip of coffee, I decide not to turn back just yet. Instead, I walk further and sit on the sand dunes. One of the sharp grasses cuts my skin on my calves, but I barely feel it. I only feel my calmness now.
When I found a gift in our closet I almost immediately opened it and saw my dream earrings. I was very happy. I even got scared that the expensive watch I wanted to give him for our 5th anniversary wouldn’t be enough. What nonsense, it costs more than those earrings. But that’s how it is with us, with us women. This world of men made our servitude a duty, and we feel guilty when, for a change, someone else does something for us. Anyway, I would be very happy with my gift if it turned out to be my gift. My husband only wished me a happy anniversary the day after, and I never saw the earrings again. At that moment, I knew. I didn’t have to wait long for physical evidence.
I tilt my head back, and my shoulders sink into the sand. It hugs me. I feel so happy when I’m here. Nature makes me feel good enough. It makes me not chase after anything or worry about anything. Nature just makes me be. Slowly, I rise. it’s time to go back.
The divorce papers lie in a drawer in my desk. I didn’t even bother to hide them. My husband would never think to look for evidence of my infidelity. And I didn’t even have to look for my evidence. One of the proofs came to my door last Thursday, holding her round belly, showing me pictures, texts, and a ring definitely bigger than mine. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me, but the truth is that it didn’t surprise me. I could fully accept the feeling of emptiness that had been with me for some time now. I politely thanked her and closed the door in front of her. I shared my husband, but I won’t share my home. In my home, I want my peace. On my beach, I feel peace.
As I approach my house, my husband stands on the patio with his cup, looking at me and waving. I see joy on his face. He always waits for me like this when I return from my morning walks. In the kitchen, fresh orange juice is waiting, and croissants are baking in the oven. I used to think these were signs of love. That he did it for me to make me happy. Now I know he simply enjoys doing it. We don’t have to feel guilty, dear women, just because a man does something for us. Like putting together a piece of furniture or cooking dinner. He does it mainly because it gives him a good feeling. He feeds his ego with it.
He continues to wave, and I reciprocate the smile.
The wind pushes me in his direction, giving me courage. My heart, however, beats at its regular pace. I’m not afraid. It’s just the way it is. I’ll manage. It’s just me and my body, me and my mind. Me and my beach. Nothing and nobody will sink me. Not even the biggest storm. The weather by the sea was average. And it rained.
