After Luna, my wife, became one of the most credible doctoral advisor in her field, she made it a tradition to sponsor a poor male student each year. Though, it was all under the pretense of building her reputation.

On our wedding anniversary, she showed up late, trailing behind her a baby-faced college boy in a crisp white shirt.

“This kid's young, shy and pure-hearted," she said casually. "If you keep that scowl on your face, you’ll just scare him off."

She then added, "Warm him a glass of milk, will you? He gets insomnia before bed and if he doesn’t sleep well, he’ll end up not sleeping at all. It'd keep me up too.”

Laughter and teasing filled the room. Her academic friends, all too comfortable with the scene, kept calling him her “little boyfriend” like it was some sort of inside joke.

I said nothing. I simply threw the divorce papers in her face.

“Cyrus, seriously?" she sneered, barely glancing at them. "Still playing this fake divorce game to get attention? God, no wonder you’re so boring in bed."

"If you really had the guts, you'd actually leave," she added nonchalantly.

She kicked the papers aside with her heel and her cold and mocking tone penetrated my heart like a sharp knife.

What Luna didn’t know was that the divorce papers weren’t fake this time. I had hired a lawyer. I meant it for real.

——

“Cyrus, man, don't go throwing divorce papers every time you get into a spat with Luna,” one of the guests joked.

“Yeah," someone else chimed in. "Remember last time? You had a bunch of typos in it. Did you even fix those?"

Everyone burst into laughter and didn't stop at that. They continued gossiping like I didn't exist.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady myself.

Luna had become a doctoral advisor five years ago. Ever since, her circle of friends had been made up of academics and intellectuals.

With just a bachelor’s degree to my name, I might as well have never gone to school at all in their eyes.

“That’s enough, don’t you think?”

Someone in the crowd finally spoke up, breaking the tension. Only then did the others take the hint and shift the topic.

I leaned forward, trying to see through the crowd, but couldn’t make out a thing.

Taking a deep breath, I bent down to pick up the divorce papers from the floor and handed them to Luna again.

“Luna, this version of the divorce agreement has no typos or sloppy grammar. I hired a lawyer to draft it.” I passed her the attorney’s business card along with the documents. “Take a look. If there’s anything off, talk to my lawyer.”

That finally got her to stand up straight and step away from the man she had been leaning on. She took the papers.

I turned and walked into the kitchen, made a glass of milk and handed it to the college kid named Seth.

Seth Boreas... He was young, good-looking—there was even a flicker of resemblance to a younger version of myself.

I was no longer the person who held her heart. She’d moved on—again and again. I’d lost count of how many times.

“There’s powdered milk in the cupboard—skim and whole. Help yourself next time if you want more.”

“Professor Luna is a kind person. There are eleven other students like you living on the third floor. Try learning from them. Maybe you’ll graduate sooner.”

Over the years, I had thrown the word “divorce” around more times than I could count—handwritten drafts, online templates, you name it. A chaotic mess, one version after another.

I had thought Luna might tone things down, but it barely made a difference. Over the years, Luna had brought home more college boys than I could count—all to polish her reputation as a top academic advisor.

One wave after another... Now there were still eleven of them left.

I ended up playing housekeeper for the lot of them. I looked after their needs and, more often than not, turning a blind eye to their flirting and fooling around.

I couldn’t keep living like this. I didn’t want to.

Back when we first got married, our anniversaries were just the two of us—simple, warm and full of love you could feel without even trying.

Somewhere along the way, though, our anniversary became just another excuse for Luna to show off and brag. The house would fill with strangers I didn't even recognize, her circle constantly turning over with new faces.

That day, I turned and headed upstairs, packed a few clothes into a suitcase and got ready to leave.

Suddenly, Luna cut me off at the staircase with a single step, blocking my way. She shot a look of pure disgust at the suitcase in my hand.

"Cyrus, looks like playing househusband's gotten a little too comfortable for you," she sneered. "Have you earned a single dime since we got married? If it weren't for me, would you be living this cushy little life?"

"If you want to leave, fine! But you're not taking a damn thing from this house!" Luna snapped.

I thought back to the time when her career was just taking off. She had begged me to quit my job, to stay home and support her from behind the scenes. I'd agreed without hesitation. As a man, I was proud to stand by her.

Now all that loyalty had rotted into bitterness between us.

The love we'd shared when we were young had sharpened into a blade over the years instead. She didn't hesitate to turn it against me.

My hand shook on the suitcase handle. My voice caught in my throat as I forced myself to speak.

"You want me to open it so you can check?"

Luna arched an eyebrow and threw a judgmental glare. "And I’ll need to search you too. Everything you're carrying," she said coldly.

"Cyrus, do you think you're the only one who's been wronged? You know damn well what you did back then! If it weren't for your father getting down on his knees and begging me, you'd have walked away from this marriage with nothing!"

She paused, her voice dripping with fake generosity.

"Of course, if you want to change your mind, just get on your knees and apologize. Maybe then, I'll pretend none of this ever happened."

She was talking about that photo from five years ago, the one that "proved" I had cheated.

It was a mistake, a photo taken from a bad angle, but Luna didn’t care. She decided I was guilty and to punish me, she aborted our child—five months along—without a second thought.

I had tried to explain many times that I'd lost count. Luna still refused to believe a word I said. She even forced me to sign the consent forms for the abortion.

In the end, it had been my father who begged her not to leave me. That was the only reason we stayed together.

They say misunderstandings could be cleared up with time, but sometimes, when the bond broke, it’d be gone for good. I used to believe that if I just stayed quiet, stayed patient, kept making her happy, eventually I'd have the chance to explain everything.

Standing there now, I realized that it was nothing but a wishful thinking.

Some misunderstandings never go away. Because some people don't want the truth. Ever.

"Fine," I said, voice low.

With a loud snap, I threw open the suitcase.

My things spilled all over the floor. Aside from a few changes of clothes, I hadn’t taken anything with me.

A small crystal globe rolled to a stop at Luna’s feet. It was a gift she’d given me back in college when we first started dating—her way of confessing her feelings. Technically, it had always been hers.

She bent down to pick it up and right at that moment, I yanked off my shirt with a sharp rip.

“Luna, if you’re going to search me, then do it. Make it quick,” I said, my voice flat. “My ride’s still waiting outside.”

Since that incident five years ago, it was the only time I’d ever raised my voice to her.

Her hand trembled slightly as she held the crystal globe. Her eyes were red around the edges, welling up.

“Cyrus. You’re really something, aren’t you?” she spat. “Go ahead, strip down completely. Walk out of here butt-naked if you’ve got the guts!”

She hurled the crystal globe at me.

It shattered on the floor with a sharp, piercing crack that echoed through the hall—like the final snap of something that had already been splintering for years.

That globe was like our relationship. It shattered into pieces too jagged to put back together.

The people around us started realizing things were going sideways. One by one, they slipped away, smart enough to leave without a word. I could feel a burning gaze on my back, hot and heavy like it was searing through me. I turned, but there was no one there.

Within moments, the hall was completely empty. The older students, the ones who’d been around the longest, had quietly gone back to their rooms.

Seth was the only one still standing beside Luna. He was shifting with unease, but I could see something in his eye. A flicker of amusement was there. The kind of amusement anyone would have when watching a spectacular show.

"Alright then," I said. "I'll strip down if that's what you want." And I did it, just like that. In a few swift motions, I was down to nothing.

"Professor Luna Owen," I said calmly, "please sign the divorce papers. I’m fine walking away with nothing."

The moment Luna heard the words walk away with nothing, she burst out laughing—loud and sharp.

“Cyrus, do you actually think you can walk away clean? You’ve been out of touch with the real world for years. You can’t even land a basic job making three to five grand a month.”

“And who’s going to pay for your brother’s rehab? He’s practically paralyzed.”

“What about your dad’s gambling debts, huh? Or have you forgotten how he got down on his knees, crying like a dog, begging me not to leave you?”

Everything she said hit like a punch to the gut. She knew exactly where to aim—every weak spot, every vulnerability—and she never missed. That was her power over me. That was how she always won.

Bitterness welled up in my chest like something sour I couldn’t swallow.

For the first time, I truly understood what people meant by the broken windows effect—how one small crack, left unchecked, could lead to collapse.

“Luna, would you finally sign the papers if I got down on my knees?”

Before she could even respond, I was already on the floor. I’d done so many humiliating things over the years—this was just one more to add to the list.

This one gesture, however, pushed Luna over the edge.

Luna yanked me to my feet and dragged me into the study on the first floor. In a flash, she shoved me down, pinned me beneath her, tore off my tie and used it to bind Seth to the leg of the desk.

Seth's clothes hit the floor in an instant. Luna’s heavy breathing came in broken gasps as papers flew everywhere like confetti in a storm.

I looked at their tangled legs before shutting my eyes in anguish. A tear slid down my cheek. How many times had this happened?

I’d lost count. Almost everyone Luna brought home ended up in the same twisted scene. I was always the one left to clean up after.

I didn’t know how long they kept going. My whole body eventually went numb and consciousness slipped away.

It wasn’t until my phone started ringing non-stop that I realized the study was finally empty, left in utter chaos.

“Cyrus? We’ve got your dad. If you don’t bring the money by six, he won’t live to see tomorrow.”

My heart barely reacted. Numb. Just numb. “How much this time?”

“Four hundred fifty thousand.”

That number still made me flinch, no matter how numb I felt inside.

***

I glanced at the clock, it was 3 a.m. Outside, the night was pitch black—like ink that refused to fade.

The door creaked open. Luna stood there, completely naked, a lit cigarette glowing between her fingers.

“Luna, I need four hundred fifty thousand,” I said quietly.

She just laughed, locked the door and didn’t even look at me.

That night, I didn’t sleep—not for a second.

By six, the sun had begun to rise.

Three days later, the police called. “Mr. Gray, we’ve found a male body in the southern outskirts of the town. We believe it’s your father…”

I stared at the photo the kidnappers had sent days earlier. The man who raised me for over twenty years—limbs severed, the scene soaked in blood.

I kept staring until I started laughing. Maybe this was better. Maybe now, we were all finally free.

I slipped out of the house unnoticed. However, just as I turned the corner, a car pulled up and nearly hit me.

The window rolled down and a familiar face appeared. “I’ll give you a ride.”

It was Vega, the girl next door I’d grown up with. She didn’t say anything else and neither did I.

Eventually, she broke the ice and asked quietly, “Cyrus, do you regret choosing Luna?” She hesitated, then added, “If you ever change your mind, there’s always a place beside me.”

Five years ago, the tabloids had caught a photo of me in a scandal. The woman in the picture?

She was the same Vega Crawford.

I remember Luna kept demanding answers from me back then.

“Why did it have to be Vega?” She said it like it would’ve been fine if it were anyone else. As if it wasn’t the betrayal, just who I’d done it with.

I couldn't even say a thing. So, I ignored Vega and left her car without a word. After everything blew up back then, Vega left the country.

I couldn’t reach her no matter how hard I tried. Hundreds of unread emails sat unanswered—each one another crack in the foundation of my marriage, my life.

If my father and brother had been the chains holding me down, then Vega was the final match that burned everything to the ground.

I didn’t want any of them anymore.

The police station was packed. Everyone was busy with their own thing, face mostly darkened like the clouds before rain in the sky.

“Has the victim’s family shown up yet?”

“Seriously? The guy’s been dead for three days and no one in his family even noticed?”

A few officers were chatting nearby. I walked up and gave them my father’s name. They glanced at me sideways, their frowns sharp with quiet judgment.

I handed over the phone number from the ransom call and the photo the kidnappers had sent. I also laid it all out—my father’s gambling, the debts, everything.

The police confirmed it was a murder but said the investigation was ongoing. They told me to go home and wait for updates.