Glass Slippers

prologue

Mira Hayes had decided. And her decision, it was final.

Or so that was what she kept telling herself. 

She nervously glanced at Aaron, to where he sitting, on the couch, lazily watching the Warriors game, unaware of the struggle she was suffering through. But Mira, she didn't move from her spot, leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at the living room, glancing at him. 

Everything, little things, tearing at her. 

She didn't know what to do. 

She turned around, facing away from him and played with the ends of her hair. Twirling the black locks around, picking at the split ends, still debating as to what she should do.

What she wanted to do and what she should do were two entirely different things. But her decision. 

Her decision. It was final. It had to be final. 

Aaron Zielinksi was supposed to be her forever, her happily-ever-after. And he was, he had been. 

But her decision was final.

She turned back around, ready to face him. Putting on a fake smile, her brave face. But it slowly fell apart anyway.

She didn't need to pretend. Aaron would see right through her anyway. He knew her better than anyone else. And he loved her, more than she could ever imagine.

And that's why she was conflicted. 

Because, Aaron, he was in every way possible the fairytale she'd always wanted. But now, at the age of twenty-four, she'd finally grown out of the white pumpkins and glass slippers.

Now, now things were different. 

It didn't matter. Not anymore.

And that's why her decision was final. 

She slowly sat down, the sofa next to the one he was sitting on. His gray eyes met hers, briefly and he smiled, slightly. And just as quickly, his focus was back on the basketball ball game. 

But everything, it was all different. They were both lying to each other. They were both hurting each other.

"Aaron." Her voice, nervous, unsure yet still gentle. Because her decision wasn't final. Despite how much she told herself otherwise. 

And as he hummed, his dull eyes meeting hers again, as he really looked at her. It was almost as if he already knew what she was going to say, what she was about to do.

For a second, she froze. Staring at him, he looked tired. As though the last six months had really caught up to him. And he looked older. Older and sadder.

Just like her. 

And as he stared at her, he was the one, the one who'd given her glimpses of the fairytale she'd always desired, she almost found herself stumbling, struggling with her words.

She shook her head, lips parting, quivering as she fumbled to speak. Don't do it. She didn't want to do it.

She didn't want to break his heart.

But she did anyway.

It seemed that was all they did these days. He hurt her. And she hurt him. Over and over, she hurt him. 

This marriage, their love, it was making them miserable. They were miserable. And she didn't want to be miserable. 

Not anymore. 

She was sick of feeling like this. Alone and broken.

Mira would've never believed that it would be possible. To be loved yet still feel unloved at the same time. To be wanted yet unwanted at the same time. To sit down, right next to him, merely inches apart yet feel as though they were miles apart. 

She scooted forward a little, gripping onto the sofa handle.

Worry lines etched on his forehead as he nodded, telling her that he was listening.

Her decision was final. She pressed her lips together, gathering the courage to continue. The words easily leaving her lips, her tone neutral and her heart broken. 

"I want a divorce."