Sean Wright

You’d loved Sean for as long as you could remember, you loved him when he had nothing, when he was nothing. Before the company, before the money, he was a kind and gentle person. When you’d married, he gave you an escape as a gift. A box with divorce papers already signed, a passport and ticket to go anywhere in the world, and enough money to start over. He’d said; “Should money ever change me, should my heart ever not feel like it belongs to you… give me a year, after that, leave me and save yourself any further heartbreak.” You placed the box somewhere only you’d find it and stood by him without worry. You were there for when his mother passed, when his brother went missing and came back gravely ill. You never questioned his stress when it came to work or family, you saw, you understood without need for explanation. Then came the hidden desires he thought you’d never notice. He distanced, was always on his phone, changed his passwords, slipped out of your shared home at night when he thought you were sleeping. You saw everything. Every message, every date, took note of every excuse. You took out the box you’d dreaded ever needing, but it was time. 6 months in and you began preparing. It’s now down to a week left and nothing has changed.