'I thought our relationship was solid, but he was secretly plotting to do the unthinkable.'

As told to Ann DeGrey.

For three years, Toby and I had built a wonderful life together. It wasn't perfect, and that was mostly due to my bad habits. Still, I really thought we were both happy. Toby was a kind, loving, and reliable man who always made me feel safe. 

We had our differences, of course. He hated my shopping habits and often complained that I spent too much, but I worked to get it under control. I had even tried to fix my other flaw; my messiness.

Toby was obsessed with order. He liked our home to be sleek, minimalist, everything in its place. I, on the other hand, had always been a little chaotic. But for him, I had changed. I had even hired a professional de-clutterer to help me transform our house into the neat, structured space he loved. Everything felt right — until the day I found his escape plan.

I was looking for a spare phone charger. Toby had a work drawer in his study where he kept random cables, batteries, and other tech bits. I opened it without a second thought, and noticed a black leather notepad lying on top of a folder. I hadn't meant to snoop, but something about it caught my eye. I opened it, expecting to see meeting notes or reminders. Instead, my heart stopped. Page after page, in his neat handwriting, was a detailed plan for him to disappear.

He'd written everything down, right down to the fake name he would use. There were notes on bank accounts I didn't recognise and a rental property in Tasmania that he had told me his ex-wife got in the divorce — a lie, as it turns out. It was Toby's all along. There was even a detailed timeline of when and how he would leave.

March 21: Tell her you're going interstate for a conference. Brisbane?

I read the words over and over, my brain refusing to process what was in front of me. He'd mapped out the lie of the Brisbane trip, and also that he was going to send me to Fiji for a "girls' holiday" as a birthday surprise, only to use that holiday to remove all of his things from the house. 

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He was also planning to relocate to Hobart, where he had already found a job. It felt like all my blood was draining from my body; I was dizzy and so shocked. Toby was planning to vanish from my life. He'd also written down reminders to "block her numbers, email and social media".

When he got home that evening, I was waiting for him. The notepad sat on the kitchen counter like evidence in a trial.

"What is this?" I asked, trying not to yell or cry. 

He looked at it, then at me. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a sigh, he sat down and said, "I was going to tell you." 

"When? As you walked out the door?"

"I don't know," he said, repeating himself multiple times. Eventually, he said, "I just can't do this anymore".

"Do what?" I asked. "Be with me?"

He just nodded.  

 "You were going to leave with no explanation? Without even saying goodbye?"

Toby had always been calm and rational, the kind of man who thought everything through. Even his betrayal was carefully planned. He told me he didn't love me anymore, that he felt suffocated, and he just wasn't happy anymore. 

I wanted to call him a lying coward (and many other names) but I was just numb. 

The next morning, he packed a single suitcase and walked out the door. He didn't look back. I waited for a call, a text; something. But Toby never reached out. It was as if he had erased himself from my life completely, just like he had planned. Had he been planning this for months? Maybe even years? A week later, one of his friends arrived to collect his things. I left the house and moved out of our rental a few weeks later — I just couldn't stand being in that place any longer. 

I told myself I hated him. That I was better off without a man who could walk away so easily. And so thankful I looked at that notepad and saw his nasty plans.

Now, two years have passed. I have a new man in my life, and he is nothing like Toby. He loves me deeply and would never do anything to hurt me. But I still think about Toby sometimes. Is he happy now? Does he regret the pain he caused? I guess I will never know.

Feature image: Getty.