I’ll stop hanging out with Mark and Dave, I swear. I never meant what I said. You are special. You’re everything to me.” I looked at him, feeling absolutely nothing but pity. “Evan, you didn’t value me until I showed you what life looks like without me.

But the problem is, the moment you told me your friends thought you could do better, and you stood by it, my love for you died. You can’t fix something that isn’t there anymore.” He cried. Real, ugly tears. He begged for a second chance.

But as I sat there watching him, I realized that he wasn’t crying because he lost the love of his life. He was crying because he had lost his punching bag. He had lost the woman who made his life comfortable, the woman who absorbed his disrespect with a smile.

I slid the divorce papers across the table. “I’ve already signed them. My lawyer will be in touch with yours.” I stood up, grabbed my purse, and walked out into the crisp Seattle air. I didn’t look back. It’s been a year since that day.

I’m thriving in my career, my apartment is a sanctuary, and my peace is untouchable. I heard through the grapevine that Evan is still single, still hanging out with the same miserable friends, still complaining about how women are “too dramatic.” He spent years letting his friends tell him he could find something better.

I just decided to give him the freedom to go look. As for me? I didn’t need to find something better. I just needed to realize that I was the better thing, and I was entirely too special to be wasted on him.