She had wondered what life would be without him; how she’d get along if she just pretended he had never existed in the first place.
At first, she had been fearful. She had never tried to envision a world he didn’t rule. Sure, she had gotten angry a time or two and half-heartedly told him how much she had hated him, but that was different. The hatred itself acknowledged his power.
Now, and for the past six months, she neither hated nor loved him. She felt nothing and that felt good.
When the sun shone, she was still grateful, but without the guilt that used to accompany the pleasure. She didn’t need to be worthy of the warmth; she only had to be glad.
She thought it funny that all his lovers could not understand why she did not share in their infatuation with him. To them, he could only be perfect, even in his anger. Her pain could never have been his fault. Surely, she had done something to deserve his displeasure.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to love him or gain his favor. She had, but it was to no good end. Some are just not meant for each other, and so it was for them.
She had already been used to the loneliness and coldness of their relationship, so when she finally decided to break free, there were no tears and no regrets, only great relief.
When she did things he had always disapproved of, she was no longer being unfaithful. Now, he didn’t even enter into her decision making process. Let his stern judgment be placed elsewhere; she was no longer his concern.
She was sure that if they still communicated, he would insist that he still loved her, and that all he had done was for her own good, but none of that mattered anymore.
She and God were seeing other people.