My wife got back from her so-called business trip and snuggled up to me, but I pulled away.

I'd been sick as hell a couple of days ago, and I still felt like a ghost.

But my own wife didn't even give a damn about my pale face or the mountain of meds clattering on the nightstand.

Displeased, she cursed and reached for her phone to dial up that childhood 'friend' of hers.

"Hey, where you at? I'm in a crap mood. Come cheer me up!"

That prick on the other end had the balls to chuckle and say, "Didn't you just get back home? You wanna see me again now?"

She shot me this dead-eyed look while heading out the door, replying, "I was this close to sleepin', but I guess I can't do that in my own damn bed tonight!"

I just sneered and called up my lawyer.

"Please get those divorce papers ready."

——

Ellen and I had been dating for four years and married for six.

Every folks around us knew I worshipped her. Even when she told me she couldn't have kids, I still stayed with her.

But as time passed, the way she treated me felt like she was this woman I didn't even recognize.

She went from being all clingy to straight-up paranoid, believing what she wanted to believe.

Whenever we had a little misunderstanding, she'd storm out of the house and run off to that jerk—Gareth McKinley.

If I lost it and brought up divorce, my wife would get on her knees, saying sorry, swearing she just wanted to mess with me, and that nothing was happening between her and her friend.

Her mom would back her up, saying I should stick it out, it was just my wife's health making her act all messed up.

And all her friends? They'd swear she never even went to see Gareth. And like a goddamn fool, I forgave her.

That was until a week ago, a buddy recommended me this OB-GYN.

So I went to see the doctor, feeling like maybe things could turn around for me and my wife. Luckily, the doc said my wife's condition wasn't hopeless.

I never cared much about having kids. But I thought, screw it, maybe having a kid would chill her out a bit.

On my way back, I stopped by Urban Basket to grab some groceries.

It was just getting dark when I stepped out and damned if I didn't see Ellen's car stopping across the road.

My gut told me to take a closer look, and there she was, sitting in the driver's seat. And right there, under the blinding headlights—my wife was kissing some guy torridly like they were inseparable.

The scene struck me like lightning, and the groceries fell out of my grip. Vegetables and fruits rolled out everywhere.

When the light turned green, some jerk honked, snapping my wife and her fling out of their little bubble.

Ellen rolled down the window, cursing at the car behind them.

Gareth, that son of a bitch, just smirked, stroking my wife's hair.

They didn't even notice me catching their affair. My wife's car just sped off right past me.

I swear, it felt like someone kicked my legs out from under me.

The night air was cold and the chill dug right into my bones, making me shudder uncontrollably.

I don't remember how I got home. But that night, I was burning up with a fever.

I would've died if a buddy, worried 'cause he couldn't reach me, hadn't come and rushed me to the hospital.

Turned out, I'd suddenly developed acute pneumonia.

When Ellen finally came back, she threw her suitcase down into the room.

She smelled of some other dude's cologne when she slipped under the comforter beside me.

She didn't care enough to even notice my pale face or the meds littering the bedside table.

I turned my head away from her and said, "I'm not feeling well tonight."

She got out of bed, looking down at me.

"Oh, yeah? You just can't stand me now, right? Dang, it's not like I'm desperate for you anyway!"

Then, she grabbed her phone and openly called that same damn number.

"Hey, where you at? I'm in a crap mood. Come cheer me up!"

I could hear the bastard's damn laugh through the phone. "Didn't you just get back home? Wanna see me again now?"

"You really don't care if your useless husband gets mad, huh?"

Ellen looked over at me with a mocking grin and laugh.

"Well, he's a useless waste of space anyway. 'Dunno why he's even got the dang nerve to reject me."

She said it quiet enough that her other man on the line wouldn't catch it but loud enough for me to hear every word.

"What was that?" the bastard asked.

"Nothing, just saying I can't even sleep in my own damn bed!"

Ellen grinned as she hung up and gave me one last look before picking up her suitcase. And then, she just walked right out.

There was a time I would've chased her. I would've apologized and held her. No matter what bullshit she spewed, I would've appeased her with a gentle voice.

But this time, when that door slammed shut, I didn't move a muscle. Just lay there in our bed alone.

God, I'm so damn fed up with all her bullshits!

The next day, for the very first time, Ellen came back early.

I was finishing up breakfast at the table when I heard the door, but I didn't bother to lift my head.

She stood in front of me like she was expecting something. No breakfast set out for her like I used to do every damn morning. Her face yelled she was pissed as hell, and then she slammed her phone down on the table.

"Go ahead, start your crap. Wanna fight again?"

She was bringing up that first time she ditched me to run to Gareth, all mad.

Back then, I was just as pissed. Didn't call her, didn't text her—all night.

The next morning, I rolled up to her mom's place with divorce papers in hand.

Ellen came rushing back, looking white as a sheet, and dropped to her knees in front of me, bawling her eyes out.

Said every time I didn't agree with her, it made her feel like I hated her, I didn't love her anymore, or I'd dump her.

So, she'd go mad and call Gareth right in front of me just to get under my skin.

Told me she regretted it the second she walked out the house, that she just went drinking with her friends instead of seeing that bastard.

Her mom was crying too, pleading with me to understand. Said any woman would be insecure in Ellen's shoes, that I needed to be the bigger person as the husband.

She kept saying Ellen only did it out of love, Ellen was just scared I'd fall out of love with her.

At first, I didn't buy a word of it. But then three of her closest friends swore she was telling the truth, even showing me bar receipts from that night to back up her story. Yeah, like a dumbass I believed them.

Later, I talked to a buddy of mine who knew a thing or two about psychology. He said what my wife did was "normal." I just needed to keep her reassured.

So, I started holding back my temper. Every time she flipped out, I'd hold my tongue, apologize, and try to smooth things over.

When I couldn't appease her, she'd storm out, and I'd be on the phone like a damn idiot, texting and calling nonstop.

More times than I can count, she got sick of me and blocked me, and I'd have to go through her friends just to reach her.

But last night, just like that first time, I ignored her all night long.

And now, here she was, but I didn't spare her a single glance.

"Nope," I replied.

I set down my plate and fork, wiped my mouth with a napkin, took the dishes, and went to the kitchen.

Right then, the sliding door behind me slammed so loud.

I glanced back and saw the glass crack from the impact. "Insecurity's turned into rage now, huh?"

Ellen froze for a moment until her face blazed red.

"Wesley! Don't think you can just scare me! You haven't done a damn thing a husband's supposed to do, and now you're treating me like trash? Go ahead, keep playing tough—let's see who will stand by you this time!"

I calmly put the dishes and tableware away, then turned to find her blocking the kitchen doorway.

I just pushed right past her and headed back to the bedroom. Just then, my brother texted, asking for a photo of me. 'Said Mom and Dad missed me.

And I thought about how I've spent all these years giving my mother-in-law everything while my own parents got nothing. That guilt hit me like a brick. I immediately transferred over 2,800 bucks to my brother and told him to give it to our parents.

Ellen stormed back in with her arms crossed. Suddenly, she ripped the phone out of my hand and shrieked when she saw the transfer.

"What the hell, Wesley?! Are you crazy? Giving that much to your brother when Mom's still waiting for your paycheck so she can buy that damn bracelet she's been talking about?!"

I looked at her nonchalantly.

"Didn't you say I'm a worthless piece of crap? What's a worthless man supposed to give?"

God knows I loved my wife. I felt for her 'cause she couldn't have kids. I did everything for her, even going against my parents to marry her.

I scrimped, saved, and worked my ass just so every damn cent I made goes to her and her mom.

Never thought I'd be called worthless in return, not by the woman whom I'd given everything, and certainly not by her other man.

Sure, I was blinded by love. But heck, I know better now!

"Call your brother. Get that money back. Now."

Ellen shoved the phone right in my face, her hand almost knocking my damn eye out.

I frowned and didn't even move to grab it, but then the phone rang all of a sudden.

We both flinched, eyes locking onto the screen.

It was my mom calling.

Before I could reach it, Ellen snatched it up and hit the speaker button.

I clenched my fists when opened her mouth. I knew—she'd demand my own mother send back the money.

But then Mom's excited voice burst out before Ellen could say a damn word.

"Oh, my son! Happy birthday, baby! I meant to call you yesterday, but we were out in the fields all day. You ain't mad, right? Tell me, how did you and Ellen celebrate?"

Ellen froze, guilt flashing across her face as she looked at me.

Yeah, my wife forgot my birthday, but she sure as hell remembered to go make out with her other man right in front of me.

I snatched the phone back and pressed it to my ear, plastering on this big, fake grin.

"Nah, how could I be mad, Mom? You and Dad, you're the only ones who ever cared about me. If anyone's sorry here, it's me—not being the son you deserve all these years."

Hearing that, Mom quickly changed the subject, clearly worried I'd get upset.

We kept talking—thirty minutes, maybe. Not once did we bring up my wife's name.

By the time I hung up, Ellen's face was all twisted up like she couldn't figure out what to do.

"Fine, fine. It's your birthday, so I'll let that money slide for now. But it's a loan, 'you hear me? You're damn lucky to have a generous wife like me, you know that?"

"And about yesterday? Well, you know that was your fault. If you'd just talked to me nicely, I wouldn't have left."

I ignored her. Just went back to my phone and started chatting with some old buddies.

She lingered there like a ghost until she muttered, "Fine, I'll go buy a cake. Make something nice for dinner, alright? I'll make it up for you tonight."

I watched until the door clicked shut behind her, and then I opened my chatbox with my supervisor.

[Hey, Wesley, are you really planning on transferring to the branch? It's your hometown, sure, but what about living apart from your wife?]

I shot back quickly: [Won't be a problem. She's about to be my ex-wife soon enough.]

The chatbox showed she was typing, untyping, and typing again.

Although it took her forever, she still sent a short reply.

[Alright… With you on the team, I'm sure the branch will make it.]

I checked the time, set my phone to silent, and crawled back under the covers.

I was dead asleep, right? Then I heard this goddamn noise from the living room.

My eyes barely even opened and my mind barely awake when I felt these hands, yanking me out of bed. It's Ellen.

"Get your ass up! I invited my friends over for your birthday, and you're here sleeping? Get in the damn kitchen!"

I dragged myself out to the living room. There were folks jammed in every corner, trashing the place with empty soda cups and pizza boxes. I swear, I had never felt so enraged like this before.

I clenched my fists but eventually kept my cool. I decided to save some face for my wife who invited them all.

"Oh, wow! Didn't expect all of you to show up. Alright then, how about I book us a table at a restaurant, yeah?"

"What? Nah, bro. Eating out's damn expensive! Besides, Ellen's always bragging about your cooking. We want a taste of that!"

Gareth sprang up. That stupid grin plastered on his face like he knew something I didn't.

And there's Ellen, frowning and pulling at my arm. "You just sent 2,800 bucks to your brother, and now you wanna blow more cash eating out? What, you think we're born rich?"

"Come on, you can cook just fine! I even got all you need. Just make something quick."

Ellen. Buying groceries.

That was enough to make my stomach turn, so I bolted to the kitchen and threw the door open.

Eels, lobsters, frogs—Jesus Christ! I don't even know how the hell a couple of them got behind the damn stove!

I took a deep breath and quickly shut the door.

I knew it'd be like this!

She can't even mop the floor right ever since we got married, and she thinks she can damn buy groceries?!

And then there was Gareth, standing right behind me. In a voice that only the two of us could hear, he arrogantly said, "Poor thing. Cooking for all these folks on your day? Damn. Did you know? For my birthday, Ellen actually rented out a suite at the Kingsbay for three good days."

"Guess you're not the favorite, huh, Wesley?"

Before I could lift my fist, Ellen stepped up right behind him.

"What are you two gossiping about?"

"Hey, babe, why aren't you cooking yet? My friends are starving!"

I wanted to tell her to shove her friends right out the damn door, but then I thought of that bastard's arrogant face last week.

"We're missing some spices. I'll run out and grab them real quick."

"What? I'll go then. It's getting late. You still got two sets of meals to cook, you know."

She really thought I'd cook a feast for her dumbass friends, and then whip up dinner for us too?

I ground my teeth together, and then I just shot back, "What the hell do you even know about kitchen stuff? I'll be back in a flash."

Finally, that shut her up.