Not My Fault

Written for https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2023/06/15/reenas-xploration-challenge-284/

She’d forgiven everyone and emptied her home of all that gave it meaning. Now, on the edge of yet another move, Martha was moving on. Was her marriage always a hollow shell? Perhaps, but she couldn’t help thinking she could have done more. The vase, which held so much meaning, a forgotten mass of pottery.

Flowers, his go to, when he was feeling remorseful.

A long day at work, a meeting, so much pressure. What did she have to complain about? Didn’t she get that new kitchen? Holidays abroad? A new diamond ring? Still it wasn’t good enough.

Now she knew different – all those belongings didn’t compare to happiness.

Perhaps the last person she needed to forgive, was herself. It was never her fault; the hate, the blame game. A dinner late, or a word said in haste. ‘I’m sorry,’ said the walls, even more quickly.

She didn’t regret leaving, and this house, now just four walls, with a story to tell.

‘It wasn’t my fault,’ she said, leaving the house for the last time.