You tried very hard to make me believe that I was worth nothing. That you were doing me a favour by being with me. That you only stayed with me because you worried that if you left me, once my looks faded, I'd have nothing else to recommend me and I'd die alone.
Those were your exact words.
Didn't happen, though, did it?
I left you, and it was the best and bravest thing I've ever done. Oh, you wheedled and you lied. You threatened to kill yourself. You promised to destroy me. You put a great deal of effort into making that happen, and you almost succeeded.
But in the end, for the first time ever with you, I won.
Look at this man who loves me. See my beautiful home, my two incredible daughters, my head held high; I don't apologise for anything anymore.
What's that? You're still single, nearly eight years later? You're over forty and you're still living at home, sponging off your long-suffering parents?
Guess it'll be you who dies alone then!