Right on cue, the waiter brought over a black box tied with a ribbon. Ryan opened it eagerly, expecting a gift. Instead, his expression dropped.
Inside were completed divorce papers, along with a dinner receipt from earlier that evening made out to Hannah.
“What is this?” Ryan stammered.
Before he could process it, Hannah walked up from a neighboring table. Ryan turned pale, looking between the two of us as the reality set in.
“Think of it as a joint decision,” Hannah said cleanly. “You won’t have to choose between us anymore.”
Ryan attempted to raise his voice, accusing us of ambushing him, but neither of us engaged in the argument.
“You were right about one thing,” I said, standing up and taking my coat. “I did need to change. I just didn’t need to change for you.”
Hannah and I walked out together, leaving Ryan alone with the paperwork and the bill.
On my way out to the car, my phone buzzed with a picture from the babysitter showing my daughter sound asleep. Looking at her picture, I realized that being on my own was never the scary part—living beside someone who made me feel like I was never enough was.
