I stood with my suitcase in my hand. Tears streaming down my face. I look at him one last time as he lay on the bed with his arms behind his head. "Why won't you marry me?"
His eyes never left the ceiling as he says, "because I don't believe in it."
I shudder. His voice never broke. It was cold and quiet. He doesn't believe that I am walking out the door after seventeen years. I take in a deep breath and turn away from him. By the time I reach the front door and turn the knob, I am sobbing. It is true. He doesn't believe in me. He doesn't believe in our love. and now I understand, neither do I.
It was never love. Just convenience. It was a business relationship and I wanted too much.
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