My wife kept her art studio completely off-limits. Honestly, I never thought much of it, until I found out she was hiding a life-sized replica of Michelangelo’s David in there.
Two months after giving birth, she suddenly became obsessed with sketching sculptures.
Like, really obsessed.
She spent 29 days a month locked in that studio. Sketch after sketch, piling up until discarded pages formed little mountains on the floor. Meanwhile, our baby daughter cried for hours and she wouldn’t even come out to hold her.
Slowly, I couldn’t take it. That's why I told her I wanted a divorce.
Everyone was stunned.
My father-in-law glared daggers at me. “So you're saying, you’re divorcing Tia… because she spends 'too much' time painting?”
I corrected him. “Too much? She’s sketching that David statue over and over again!”
My mother-in-law shouted, clearly unamussed. “She gave birth to your child! She’s dealing with postpartum depression! So what if she’s retreating into her art a little? If she can’t handle the baby, hire a nanny! It’s not the end of the world!”
I said nothing to that, but I didn’t back down either.
Tiana was furious at my request and slapped me.
“Charles, I didn’t cheat on you, I haven’t even been around another man, I haven’t done a single thing to betray you! Yes, I’ve been distant. Yes, I’ve been spending more time in art lately. But are you seriously ending our marriage over that?”
People called me heartless.
I let out a dry laugh and pointed toward the studio. My voice was flat, “Well, if you said that only that statue can satisfy you, then I’m doing you a favor now.”
——
I slammed the freshly printed divorce papers down on the table. “Sign it.”
“Charles!” Tiana stared at me in shock, tears began streaming down her face. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’ve been busy painting at the studio this month, I admit I’ve been distant. That’s on me. I’ll make it up to you, okay? But is divorce really necessary?”
Her voice broke as she pleaded, loud enough for everyone to hear. “And of all days, you had to pick today! Bringing up a divorce, in front of all these people?”
I looked around the room.
Today was our fifth wedding anniversary.
To mark the occasion, Tiana had organized a family dinner. She called it a “celebration of love,” a way to bring everyone together. Yet, the entire night, she hadn’t looked at me once. Even during the toast, she clinked glasses with her childhood crush instead of me.
That was when I realized, there was no point dragging this marriage anymore.
“If you’re that embarrassed for getting everyone’s attention, then it’s better that you do as I say and sign the papers,” I said coldly, no longer interested in talking it through.
The room fell silent.
Every guest exchanged stunned glances. For five years, we’d been the picture-perfect couple. People saw us as the gold standard of marriage.
Tiana’s face turned pale. Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold herself together.
“I’m begging you,” she whispered, stepping closer, her voice choked with emotion. “Chaz, please… whatever this is, let’s talk about it at home. Don’t do this here. My parents are worried.”
I yanked my hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
Seeing how harsh I was, the mood shifted. Faces turned cold. Her father slammed his glass onto the table. Her mother’s expression darkened instantly.
Tiana lost her balance from my yank and stumbled—straight into Eddie’s arms. The very person she had a crush during childhood.
“Charles, what kind of man are you?” Eddie was furious. He stepped closer towards me.
“Did you forget Tiana carried your child for nine months? That her stomach’s covered in stretch marks and she didn’t sleep a full night for a year?”
“You weren’t even there for her when she was struggling with postpartum depression. She almost jumped off a balcony—twice! It was the doctor who told her to spend time alone, to focus on things she loves—like painting—because that’s the only way she’d start to heal.”
“And now that she’s finally getting better, finally finding herself again, you’re punishing her for it?”
“Now that the baby’s born, you're suddenly disgusted by the stretch marks on Tia’s stomach? Upset about how her body’s changed? Is that why you want a divorce? You ungrateful piece of shit! Have you no shame?”
Eddie acted like a moral police and quickly labelled me the villain. The shouting came with fists right behind it, but before he could land a hit, I dodged easily.
I looked at him coldly, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Oh? And how would you know about the stretch marks on my wife’s stomach? Unless…”
Eddie’s face turned red. “It's just common sense, man! Ask anyone here then, who doesn’t know that pregnancy causes that?”
Everyone around us nodded, chiming in like a damn jury.
My father-in-law stepped in, trying to talk me down. “Chuck, marriage isn't something you throw away on a whim. My daughter almost lost her life giving birth to your child. This is the time that really tests a couple. You’ve always seemed like a decent man—don’t let us down now.”
My mother-in-law scoffed, arms crossed. “I knew it. Men—never any good. Now you bring up divorce? You must already have someone else out there, huh?”
“Spill it! Who’s the mistress? Is she pushing you for status, pressuring you to dump my daughter?!” She rolled up her sleeves like she was ready for a street fight.
She gave Tiana a pat on the back. “Don’t worry, Honey. Mom’s gonna take that homewrecker down.”
I gave a hollow laugh. “The problem was never with me. You can say whatever you want, but I’m getting a divorce today. That’s not changing.”
Tiana’s eyes were red and swollen, like she hadn’t slept in days. She stepped forward and grabbed my hand.
“Charles, please… just tell me what’s going on. You weren’t like this before. Don’t you remember our wedding vows? In sickness and in health, through good times and bad…” she said with trembling voice.
“Enough. Cut the act.” The emotion in her eyes made me sick.
“Get out of my way.”
I shoved her aside in disgust. She let out a soft cry as she fell to the ground. Her elbow scraped against the floor, bleeding instantly.
Eddie lost it and rushed towards me. Fingers pointed at me as he barked like some mad dog. “If you dare divorce Tia today, I swear I’ll beat you into a coma!”
“You’re a damn disgrace. I’d rather she be a widow than live with a man like you!” He snapped.
Eddie lunged at me, slamming me to the floor, fists flying like he wanted to kill me.
But I just sneered. “This is between my wife and me. Why the hell do you care? This isn’t your business.”
“We grew up together! I’m her brother!”
I laughed coldly. “Oh? The sleeping together kind of brother?”
“Shut the hell up! You’ve got a dirty mind and assume everyone else does too.”
He hesitated for just a second. That was all I needed. I landed a solid punch right in his gut.
Eddie liked to flex his six-pack, but it was just for show. He had no idea I’d trained.
Meanwhile, Tiana screamed at the sight. “Charles, stop it! You might hurt him for real!”
She panicked as I pinned Eddie down, my hand gripping his throat. His face turned purple as his breathing grew labored.
Tiana, frantic, grabbed a porcelain vase from the side table and smashed it over my head.
Chaos exploded. People screamed.
“Oh my God! There’s so much blood!”
“Call an ambulance!”
Warm liquid trickled down the side of my face. My vision blurred as the noise around me faded into a chaotic hum.
“Babe! I-I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to!” Tiana’s voice shook. “I was scared you’d go too far and someone would die…”
Then, she said, “I-I already called 911!”
As I blacked out, I was probably wearing a bitter smile.
See? That was my loving wife, trying to protect her childhood crush and smashed a vase over my head, her husband, to protect him.
When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed. My skull throbbed like it had split in two.
“Chaz, don’t move. You just got more than a dozen stitches…” said a familiar voice.
I shut my eyes and let out a dry laugh. “Did you sign the divorce papers? Once I’m discharged, we’ll go to City Hall and file.”
Tiana’s sobbing cut off. “You’re still thinking about divorce?”
She stared at me, stunned, tears dripping onto the back of my hand. “Charles, I love you. The second I saw you were hurt, I called an ambulance. What’s gotten into you?”
I couldn’t help the cold laugh. “You love me? So you smashed a porcelain vase to my head?”
If that was love, I would rather she loved another man.
My question caught her off guard and quickly defended herself.
“Charles, I was panicking! You looked possessed, you were choking Eddie so hard you terrified us.”
“You know Eddie's and my families have been neighbors for decades. Eddie and I grew up together—like, diapers-on kind of childhood.”
“He was trying to help, to talk us down. How could you say those things about him?”
“Enough,” I cut her off, icy. “Explain all you want; I’m not listening. What I care about is that: we’re divorcing.”
Even my eavesdropping in-laws traded baffled looks at my response. They hadn’t expected me to be this resolute, so the couldn't stay silent. My in-laws finally walked into the room.
My father-in-law said, trying to take my side at first, “Chuck, you’re not usually this cold. Be honest—did Tiana do something that upset you? Tell me and I’ll set her straight.”
Before I could answer, he shifted gears. “Or is there someone else? We’re both men here—don’t let some temptress cloud your judgment and ruin your life.”
Meanwhile, my mother-in-law’s patience wore thin. She chimed in from the side, “Every couple fights. You argue at night and make up by morning. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“A man should have a little backbone. If you bring up divorce every time things get hard, how are you supposed to build a life together?”
Tiana was more patient than usual. She held my hand and asked softly, “Babe, what’s really going on? Tell me and we’ll fix it together. You’re this determined to leave… are you… Did something happened to you? Something you couldn't tell?”
Her careful, anxious eyes trembled. More tears fell. “No matter what you’re facing, I won’t abandon you. You don’t have to be afraid of dragging me down.”
I looked at her without expression.
All these years together, the moment she cried, I always caved. Whatever she asked for, I agreed to.
When she wanted to clear out a room and turn it into an art studio—I said yes...
