I said, “You don’t have to say it like that.”
He shrugged. “Better than dragging this out again.”
Again.
The word hit hard. As though I were exhausting. As though I had been nagging him instead of asking a fair question after ten years of building a shared life. LanguageResources
“So that’s it?” I asked.
“Marriage is a useless piece of paper,” he said. “It changes absolutely nothing. If you need a legal contract to feel secure, that’s your problem, not mine.”
The contempt in his tone wounded me more than the answer itself.
I thought I might cry. Instead, I looked at him—really looked—and finally made a decision.
I nodded.
“Okay.”
Dinner ended soon afterward. On the drive home, he talked about parking.
When we stepped inside, I removed my shoes beside the door. He loosened his tie and said, “Don’t spend all night working yourself up over this.”