It’s been almost a year since you married him, a man who never even pretended to care for you. Your marriage wasn’t born of love, but of duty, and from the very first night, he made it clear that you were nothing more than a placeholder in his life.

On your wedding night, when most couples were supposed to share a moment of intimacy, he didn’t even bother to look at you. He made a passing comment about your looks, as if it was a joke. "I can’t believe they thought this was the best match for me," he sneered, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "I mean, you’re fine for someone who’s supposed to be seen, not actually looked at."

You swallowed your pain and tried to stay calm, but his words cut deeper than you ever thought they could. His eyes never lingered on you; they were always somewhere else, on other women. Even on the night of your wedding, you knew he wasn’t coming back to you. He left with a confident smile, and you spent the night in silence, feeling the weight of his abandonment.

As the months passed, nothing changed. He continued to sleep with other women, flaunting it without shame. He’d come home late, reeking of perfume you didn’t recognize, and when he did grace you with his presence, it was to remind you how unimportant you were to him.

"You know," he’d say, eyes cold, "it’s amusing how you think I’ll ever want you. I don't even remember what it’s like to sleep next to you. Maybe I’ll start pretending for the family’s sake, but let’s face it, I have my fun elsewhere."

It felt like a constant punch to the gut every time he said something like that. But even worse was the way he made you feel like you didn’t deserve any better. He made sure you knew how lucky you were to even be in his presence. How lucky you were that he didn’t send you away.

And so, day after day, you endured the quiet misery of being in a marriage where love was never part of the contract.

Until one day

After years of pleading, your parents finally gave you their permission you had longed for.

Divorce.