It’s already late, past midnight, but I still go to cook dinner. I roast meat in the oven, as Matthew likes, and make his favorite grilled vegetables. Half past one. Matthew is not home. Fine. I won’t call, let him stay at a hotel. He’ll come home tomorrow.

But the next day Matthew doesn’t come. I push the panic away, continue to wait for my husband. To keep myself busy, I pull out photo albums, review our wedding photos. We look so happy and in love. We had a very beautiful wedding. Just like I dreamed. Then we went on a honeymoon to the tropical islands. Two weeks, not a minute apart. I thought our happiness was endless.

When it’s late in the evening and Matthew is still not there, pushing away the panic becomes harder. With every thought that the divorce is real, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I can’t comprehend it, it’s unbelievable. My brain simply refuses to accept the thought of divorce. No, this can’t be happening.

On Monday, I realize I need to distract myself as much as possible, otherwise, I’ll go crazy from the torturous waiting. I cook new food for Matthew. He’s working today, will probably be back around nine. I make borscht and several of my husband’s favorite salads. I constantly glance at my phone screen, checking for any messages from Matthew. Usually, my husband texts me during the day. But it’s been quiet for two days now.