She went into the bedroom, changed out of her clothes, slipped beneath the blanket, and fell almost instantly into a heavy sleep.
The dream that came to her was strange—dull, gray, and suffocating, like rain in late November. Nick was in it. So was his mother. There were other people too, faceless and loud, their voices overlapping until they became one ugly roar. They shouted, demanded things, gave orders, waved their hands in her face. At first, it was all a confused blur. Then the dream began to feel threatening, almost physical, pressing in on her from every side.
Erin could not understand what was happening.
Then, suddenly, she heard a crash.
A real one.
Her eyes flew open. It was four in the morning. From the kitchen came the sound of clattering dishes and something being knocked around. Erin sat up, her heart pounding, then got out of bed and padded barefoot down the hall. Squinting against the harsh light, she pushed open the kitchen door.
A man she had never seen before was sprawled across the kitchen table, arms flung wide as if he planned to sleep there until sunrise. Beside him sat Nick—flushed, glassy-eyed, drunk almost past awareness—and he was eating the leftovers.
The food Erin had been saving to stretch until payday.
“What do you want?” he slurred when he noticed her in the doorway. “We’ve got company…”
“What company, Nick? It’s four in the morning!” Erin was fully awake now. “What is going on in here?”
Nick tried to rise, swayed dangerously, and dropped back onto the chair.
“Don’t start yelling… New Year’s is almost here… loosen up…”
“Oh, yes,” Erin said through clenched teeth, forcing herself not to shake. “Because life with you is so relaxing.”
And then something inside her gave way.
It was as if a thin thread, one that had held her together for far too long, finally snapped. She walked straight to the table, grabbed the stranger by the sleeve of his jacket, and dragged him—half stumbling, half sliding—out into the hall. The front door slammed so hard Nick flinched.
“What the hell are you doing?” he muttered indignantly.
“You’ll see.”
Erin turned back, crossed the kitchen, took hold of her husband, and shoved him out after his drinking buddy.
Nick tried to protest, but there was no strength in him. His legs were already folding beneath the weight of all the alcohol he had poured into himself.
“Go sleep wherever you want,” she said coldly. “On the stairs, at your friend’s place, out on the sidewalk. I don’t care.”
“You…” he began, reaching for some curse.
But the door was already shut in his face.
Erin stood in the entryway for a long moment, unable to believe what she had just done. A few minutes later, she returned to the kitchen, gathered the ruined scraps of food, threw away the empty bottles, and made herself a mug of hot tea.
The dream had vanished completely.
She sat at the table and looked through the window at the white street outside. Snow covered everything—the dirt, the grayness, the ugliness of the city—as if the world had been given a clean sheet overnight. At some point she noticed the darkness thinning. Morning was coming. It was time to get ready for work.
When Erin left the apartment, Nick was no longer outside the door.
For the first time in her life, she did not care where he had gone.
Friday passed almost without her noticing. Erin worked steadily, with a concentration she had not felt in a long time, determined to finish everything on schedule so she would not have to stay late.
At the end of the day, management called the entire department together.
“Thank you all for your hard work,” they announced. “For New Year’s, everyone is getting a bonus.”
When the money appeared in Erin’s account, she stared at the screen and could not believe it. The amount was twice what she had expected. She pressed a hand to her mouth because tears were already rising—tears of joy, but even more than that, of relief.
Her phone buzzed in her hand.
It was Mia, her friend—the one Erin had not seen in two years. Seven years earlier, Mia had gone away on a business trip, met a man there, and no one had imagined she would end up staying. She had married him, had a son, and built a life far away. But she had never forgotten Erin.
“Erin, I’m in town!” Mia said brightly. “Only for three days. Can we see each other?”
Erin smiled, and the answer came without hesitation.
“Come over tonight.”
When Nick finally decided to come home that evening, he clearly expected to find his wife crying, apologizing, begging his forgiveness. He had even arranged his face into a stern, offended expression ahead of time.
But when he opened the door, the scene waiting for him was not what he had imagined.
Erin and Mia were sitting in the kitchen, laughing and drinking wine.
Nick’s face turned red.
“What is this?” he barked, immediately slipping into his usual shouting. “What do you think you’re doing? What have I told you about bringing strangers into my home? What kind of circus is this?”
Mia froze with her glass in her hand, completely at a loss. She looked at Erin with a silent question in her eyes.
Erin merely sighed, set down her glass, and spoke in an even voice.
“Nick… I am so tired of you. Honestly. Of you, and of your mother too.”
She looked him straight in the eye.
“You know what people say—new year, new life.” Erin paused. “I’m leaving you, Nick. Pack your things and get out of my apartment.”
Her husband blinked as though the words had not reached him.
“What are you talking about?” Then his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Fine. I’ll pack. But you’ll regret this. And how is your daughter supposed to grow up without a father? Did you think about that?”
Erin laughed.
“My daughter? You remembered Lily now? Well… at least you finally did.”
She rose from her chair and gestured toward the door.
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll survive.”