“Let Denis Go!”: I Just Said Yes…
“Where are you off to?” asked Jane calmly, watching her husband slip on a fresh shirt.
“Just meeting the lads for a pint and a chat,” Denis replied without even glancing her way.
“Do you ever plan to spend time with me?” Jane tried to smile, but it came out bitter.
“You’re always at work! How was I supposed to know you’d finish early today?”
The question seemed reasonable enough. But there had been too many of them—reasonable, convenient excuses. Jane was tired. Tired of being the one who understood, forgave, and paid for everything.
Once, she thought she’d found the one. Denis had been attentive, modest, slightly younger—but what did age matter when two souls connected? Her mum’s friends had introduced them, they’d married, and moved into her spacious flat. He worked… well, sporadically. But her salary covered them both.
The first red flags appeared a year in. An affair. Then another. And another. Apologies, tears, promises. Followed by shopping sprees—a console, a PC, a new phone… Now, a car.
“Janey, it’s practical! I’ll pick you up from work, drop the kids at nursery—” Denis dreamt.
“First, try coming home at all,” she snapped. But old habits died hard, and she forgave again.
Then came the call. On a Sunday morning.
“Hello? Let Denis go!” a young woman’s voice demanded.
“Sorry, who is this?”
“We’re in love! And you… you’re just in the way!”
Jane listened in silence.
“Are you sure what you have is worth more than money?” she finally asked.
“Of course!”
“Let’s test that.”
“What?”
“Take him. For good.”
She hung up and calmly packed his things into a suitcase.
Ten minutes later, Denis returned. He froze in the doorway, staring at the luggage.
“Are we… going somewhere?”
“You are. Wherever you like.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. We’re done.”
“Over some silly girl? I was joking, Jane! We were going to start a family! Buy a car!”
“Yes. I’ll buy my own car now. Get my own licence. And if I want kids, I’ll have them without you. Thanks for the motivation.”
He argued. Pleaded. Manipulated. But Jane was unmoved.
A year later, she stepped out of her brand-new car in a shopping centre car park. Driver’s licence in hand, confidence in her stride, a light smile on her lips. And a new dress her current partner adored—a steady, reliable man with no demands.
Spotting Denis in the distance, Jane paused for just a second.
“You bought *that* one? But… I wanted black.”
“And I wanted red. So I bought red.”
She walked away, leaving him standing in the shadows. Without a word. Without regret. Without him.
Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is walk away from what no longer serves you.
