Chapter 6: The Last Straw

Somehow, Derek had followed me and clearly saw what had just happened. He opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say. I paused, and he quickly caught up, his breath fogging in the cold air.

"I took a day off today. I can go with you."

I found it a bit funny. When I first arrived in Chicago, I wanted Derek to go shopping with me—choosing a house, buying household items. I needed his help for everything. But he said he had just started his job and truly couldn’t spare the time. Then he took leave to accompany Lillian to visit her parents’ graves. The hypocrisy stung now more than ever.

Now, if he wants to follow, let him. It didn’t matter anymore. I adjusted my scarf and kept walking. Let him trail behind if he wanted. My world had already shrunk to the exit sign.

"We haven’t gone shopping together like this in a long time," Derek said, looking nostalgic. He gently took my hand, his eyes soft, as if we were back in Silver Hollow.

Back then, he’d come pick me up after I closed my food truck. If I finished early, he’d take me shopping. I was curious about everything, and he would patiently accompany me from stall to stall. The memory flickered in my mind, bittersweet as the dusk in that little town.

My memory was a little fuzzy, but I quickly snapped out of it. Someone nearby said there had been a fire in Maple Heights.

Derek immediately let go of my hand and grabbed that person for details.

"Two kids were playing and set the shed on fire," the person replied, voice carrying over the bustle of the street.

Derek’s expression instantly turned tense. He looked at me. "Anna..."

"Go ahead. I can shop by myself," I said. I was no longer someone who needed his company. The grocery list in my hand felt suddenly lighter.

As Derek left, he looked back at me several times. "I’ll go with you another day."

Only five days left—I didn’t want to waste them on him. I watched his figure retreat, feeling nothing but relief.

This time, just after noon, Derek returned. There was no meal left for him on the table, and he didn’t need one. He used to take Lillian out to eat before coming home. The fridge hummed on, half-empty and unconcerned.

I brushed past him.

"Anna," Derek said, for some reason sounding angry. He rubbed his brow irritably. "Didn’t you notice I was hurt? Can you not be like this?" His voice wavered between frustration and pleading.

I only glanced at him lazily, not understanding what he wanted from me. The less trouble before leaving, the better.

I began to avoid Derek as much as possible. I came home late every day, only returning after he was asleep. The protection money I paid was worth it—the local toughs never caused me trouble. Even Tyler, after hearing I was going to get divorced, said it should’ve happened sooner.

He spat, "What a jerk! You, such a capable young woman—how’d you end up with a guy like that?" His accent was pure South Side, each word landing like a slap.

I smiled. "Yeah, I really regret it." I meant it, too. Regret tasted sharp and clean in my mouth.

For three days straight, I didn’t say a word to Derek. I didn’t care what he was busy with, or whether he went to see Lillian. A few times, when I came home, Derek wanted to speak to me, but I didn’t want to listen, so I pretended to be asleep. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel him standing by the bed for a long time. The house felt heavier at night, but not in a way that bothered me anymore.

Life went on like this. Soon, it was the last two days.