I packed his lunch after deciding to leave

Dear Delyara, Last night, after my husband fell asleep, I signed a lease on a small apartment across town. I will move next Friday while he is at work. This morning, I still packed his lunch. Turkey sandwich, mustard on both sides, apple cut into quarters because he never eats it whole, two cookies in a plastic bag. My hands moved automatically while my mind rehearsed the note I will leave on the kitchen table. There has been no affair, no violence, no single story dramatic enough to make leaving easy to explain. I have simply been lonely beside him for too long. When he came downstairs, he kissed the top of my head and said, “You’re the best.” I almost told him everything. Instead, I handed him the lunch bag. He left humming. I stood at the window watching his car disappear, wondering whether love sometimes survives long after a marriage has become impossible to live inside. Tonight, he will bring the empty lunch container home. Next week, he will come home to an empty house. I do not know which one of us I am betraying more.