They were done. No longer did they roll over to look at each other in bed. No goodnight kisses. No holding onto each other throughout the night.

Thirty years of marriage. You’d think some kind if treaty would be signed. But, there were no negotiations. It just happened one day. He didn’t kiss her goodbye as he went out the door for work. And, she didn’t seem to mind.

She stopped pouring his coffee in the morning. Stopped making breakfast. He no longer shaved, or, held the door for her. Their kids said they stopped trying. Maybe it was a show all along.

And, one day silence was broken. She said the unthinkable. Told him she was leaving. Had it all planned out. Move to Boise. Get a job doing something. Make the rest of her years the best years. That is, no more pretending.

The U-haul was parked in the driveway. She took what she wanted. Old pictures of the kids. Grandkids on her knee. Old records they no longer played were tossed out. Books she never read were donated to the library. She left the bed. Bought a twin mattress instead.

He did not wave goodbye. No hugs. They did not embrace. Just signatures on a legal document; they split the cost.

Over, she sighed. Over. And she took off on 80.

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