Michael and Susan

Chapter 6 (Susan): Punched

Copyright © 2024 by GroveltoHEA

Sitting on the edge of my bed in my new room, I looked around as the sense of unreality enveloped me. I'd done it. I'd left Michael. All by myself, I'd arranged for a room and had moved out. I had left my husband.

I was shaking inside and out.

I had left my husband.

It felt wrong. It felt right. It felt wrong. Wives didn't leave their husbands. To stop myself from running out of here and heading back home, I reminded myself of FDR's famous words, "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid. Repeating that to myself until I calmed down, I tried not to think so I wouldn't begin panicking again about what I had done today. I flexed and unflexed my hand, focusing on the sting, refusing to let my doubts overwhelm me.

Surprisingly, Michael had knocked on the spare room door this morning, not to have me make him breakfast, but to see if I would talk to him.

No, I would not. I was not inclined to listen to him once again defend his position and tell me he only thought about committing adultery, but he hadn't carried through with it. 

"Just go to work, Michael," I called out to him. I hoped he wouldn't try to jimmy the lock because then he'd see the two suitcases filled with clothes and the four crates of shoes, clothes and other essentials I had ready to move. To move out.

"Suze," he called through the door, "I love you. I need you to know that."

When I didn't respond, I waited for his steps to walk away and then I listened for the car to drive off. Readying myself for the day, I left the house, caught the bus that would take me to my new home and thought all the way there.

How would Michael feel when he discovered I was missing?  Would he care that I was gone or would he feel relief? Did he even love me anymore? I knew that my love for him still burned as bright, but maybe his didn't for me. I thought about how much easier it would be for me to leave if I didn't love him so much. Even seven months of him being away so much, even finding out about all of his lies hadn't changed the love I had for him. All that had done was add pain to the love so it felt like something new instead of something familiar. Something I had always taken comfort in.

I walked from the bus stop to Mrs. Engel's and she answered the door with an understanding smile. "This is a big day for you."

"Yes. But I'm ready for it."

That sounded much braver than I was actually feeling. You can be strong, Susan.

She gave me the keys to her car, and I drove home. I drove to my old home now and tried not to sigh. As I carried out my suitcases and crates and stowed them in the large trunk, I was surprised none of my neighbors came by to ask what I was doing. Maybe they were all too busy doing laundry.

Michael would have to start sending his out or hire a housekeeper to take care of what had always been my domain. Or maybe Linda could help out; it would give her something to do other than attempt to steal other women's husbands.

With the car loaded, I walked back inside and sat down at my secretary desk, pulled out my stationery and composed a letter to Michael. That took more than two hours and several false starts until I finally felt that I had explained myself clearly. I folded the letter and tucked it into an envelope, wrote Michael's name on the front of it and propped it on the kitchen table. He'd be sure to see it there. Then I wandered through the house, saying good bye to each room, making sure there wasn't anything I wanted that I hadn't already packed. When I ended up in the master bedroom, I took a deep breath and pulled off my rings, setting them carefully on his dresser.