It started over nothing. I ordered the wrong dish—some chicken special instead of the steak he’d suggested. His face changed, like I’d insulted his entire existence. “Why can’t you just listen?” he snapped, loud enough that the couple at the next table glanced over. I laughed it off, tried to keep it light, but he leaned in, his voice low and venomous, tearing into me. “You always do this, you never think, you’re embarrassing.” Every word was a jab, humiliating me right there at the table, the candlelight flickering like it was mocking my hope for romance. I sat there, fork in hand, the room blurring as his verbal attacks kept coming—calling me careless, ungrateful, like I was some child who couldn’t do anything right. The waiter avoided eye contact, and I just shrank into my seat, my face burning with shame.
I’d seen his aggression before—the way he’d snap over a text from a friend, the cold silences when I tried to talk about our future. There was no passion left, just this wall of resentment, and tonight, it hit me like a tidal wave: I don’t deserve this. I gave up my home, my job, my life in Winnipeg to be here, chasing a love that felt real in those early online messages. But as he kept berating me over a stupid menu choice, I made a decision. This was enough. I’ve been ignoring the signs—his jealousy, our lack of common ground, the way he shuts me out—but I can’t anymore. At 45, I know my worth, and it’s not this. It’s not sitting in a restaurant, humiliated, my heart in pieces.
I’m in this car now, staring at the restaurant’s glow, knowing he’s still inside, probably oblivious to the line he crossed. My bags are half-packed back at the house, and though it scares me to think of leaving this village, this dream I had of us, it scares me more to stay. I don’t know exactly what’s next, but I know I’m done letting his anger define me. I deserve a love that lifts me up, not one that tears me down. And tonight, that’s the only thought that matters.
Tonight was supposed to be simple—a quiet dinner at the only restaurant in town, just steak and wine, a chance to feel close after weeks of distance. Instead, it turned into a nightmare, and all I can think is: I don’t deserve this.