After I was diagnosed with Affective Decay Syndrome, my ability to feel anything began to slip away, quiet and slow. When Colby prioritized Selena—the one who got away, his forever golden girl—I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I simply accepted it with a calm, flat resignation. Even when I saw him slide the diamond ring—the one meant to mark our tenth anniversary—onto Selena’s finger, not a single tear fell. Lately, his excuses had worn paper-thin. “Selena is afraid of the dark,” he’d say, leaving our bed cold as he spent his nights elsewhere. On the day I finally decided to tell him about my diagnosis, I called his personal line. “Ida?” Selena’s voice drifted through the receiver, soft and dripping with mock sympathy. “Colby’s in the shower. You should probably call back later…” I hung up without a word. That evening, I stood by and watched as he escorted Selena into our anniversary gala, side by side. “I’ll be honest,” Colby murmured to me later, his eyes reflecting the glitter of the ballroom. “Marrying you was just a penalty for losing a bet with my parents.” “Selena has always been the only woman I’ve ever loved. You’ve played the role of my wife for ten years, Ida. You should be satisfied with that.” Selena leaned into his chest with a soft, triumphant laugh, her eyes shining with victory. I offered them a faint, hollow smile, then quietly dropped the hand-crafted photo album I’d spent months making into a nearby champagne bucket. Inside my mind, the memories of Colby were already starting to dissolve, like salt in water. It wouldn’t be long before I forgot him entirely—before the decade of silent heartbreak we shared was erased from my heart. … On the drive home, I voluntarily took the backseat, leaving the passenger side for Selena. Colby was used to my hypersensitivity, my frantic outbursts, the bitter jealousy that used to consume me whenever Selena was near. My sudden, tranquil compliance only seemed to irritate him. When we finally pulled up to the house and got out, I spoke up before he could start. “I’m not angry,” I said. “And I’m not jealous.” Selena’s voice immediately took on a fragile, trembling tone. “Colby, did I do something wrong? Ida seems to really hate me. Maybe I should just leave.” Colby caught her by the wrist, his voice sharp with cold impatience as he looked at me. “Why would you leave? You belong here just as much as anyone else.” He took a few strides forward and grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. “Ida, don’t think you can play hard to get with this silent treatment. Marrying you was my parents’ idea. Now that Selena is back, you need to grow up and accept it.” I looked at him, my gaze entirely flat. “I understand,” I replied softly. “Let her move in. She can have the master bedroom, too.” A flicker of deep suspicion crossed his features. “I’ll say it one more time: playing the martyr won’t work with me. If you’re upset, then scream, cry, throw a tantrum. I can buy you a new car or a designer bag to make up for it.” Selena glided over, wrapping her arm snugly around Colby’s. “Oh, Ida, how could I possibly take the master bedroom? That wouldn’t be right.” Colby let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Since you’re so incredibly generous, Selena and I will sleep in the master suite tonight.” He pulled her along, sweeping past me into the house. Deep in my mind, another fragment of my memory of him dissolved into gray mist. I pulled out my phone, booked a moving company for tomorrow morning, and bought a one-way ticket to Europe departing in a week. When I walked into the hallway, I found a large cardboard box sitting by Selena’s feet. It was overflowing with gifts Colby had given me over the years. “Ida, this throw pillow is so soft,” Selena smiled, clutching a hand-woven decorative cushion. “Colby said I could have it.” I stared at the cushion. Three years ago, Colby and I had spent an hour bartering for it at a flea market. He had haggled with the vendor, laughing, before pressing it into my arms and promising he’d hold me like that forever. Now, as I looked at the music box he had hand-assembled and the small wooden figurines he had carved for me, the memories attached to them detached like dry autumn leaves. “Keep whatever you like,” I said. “They’re just old things anyway.” I picked up my spare keys and turned toward the guest room. Colby strode after me, blocking the doorway. “Ida, this isn’t you. Before, if Selena so much as looked my way, you would have screamed at me for three days straight. Now I bring her into our home, and you don’t even have a single question?” I looked up at his handsome face, finding the situation almost absurd. “Colby, isn’t this exactly what you always wanted? A quiet wife who doesn’t make a scene. Isn’t that better?” He froze, the words dying on his lips. I shut the guest room door behind me, cutting off his gaze. The next morning, the moving truck pulled up to the driveway right on schedule. My entire life in this house was packed into just two small cardboard boxes waiting by my feet. Colby stepped out of the master bedroom, his face darkening instantly when he saw the boxes. “Ida, when is this performance going to end? Unpack your things. Don’t force me to make you.” The bright, earnest boy I had fallen in love with was already a blur in my mind. I knelt down and packed a stray sweater back into the box. “Let’s get a divorce, Colby. I’ll have my lawyer send over the papers in a few days.” Selena gasped from the hallway, though she couldn’t hide the sudden spark of triumph in her eyes. Colby’s face turned white, then a furious red. “What did you say?” “I said, I want a divorce. You’ll have the papers soon.” I kept my focus downward, folding my clothes with steady hands. “Ida, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. You’re threatening me with divorce now? It was just a ring. I told you I’d replace it. What are you throwing a fit for?” My absolute silence was the final straw. His patience broke. The front door slammed shut behind him, shaking the walls of the foyer. With that sound, the details of Colby’s face faded further into the fog. I realized, with a strange sense of detachment, that I couldn’t quite remember what his smile looked like. “We can go now,” I told the mover. The truck rolled slowly down the driveway. I didn’t look back. My phone vibrated in my coat pocket. It was a text from Colby. “8:00 PM tonight. The Grand Bellevue. Selena’s birthday party. If you still want to hold onto your title as my wife, you’ll be there on time.” I stared at the screen for a brief second, then quietly blocked his number. “Goodbye, Colby. From now on, you are just a stranger.” I ended up seeing the party on Instagram later that night, posted by a mutual friend. It was a lavish affair—something he had never once arranged for me. In one video, Colby went down on one knee, presenting Selena with a massive bouquet of white roses. My best friend called me, crying on my behalf, furious at how easily he had cast me aside. The next afternoon, the housekeeper from the family estate called. His voice was frantic, bordering on tears. “Ida, please, you have to come over right away! Grandmother Helen collapsed, and she keeps calling out your name!” The image of Grandmother Helen’s warm, wrinkled face flashed in my mind. She was the only person in that family who had ever truly loved me. Whenever Colby hurt me, she would hold my hands and tell me I didn’t have to carry the burden alone. “I’m on my way,” I said. I grabbed my coat and rushed out the door. The moment I stepped into the estate’s living room, Selena’s melodic laughter reached my ears. “Helen, try some of this wild New Zealand honey. Colby imported it specially for you.” Colby sat nearby, casually scrolling through his phone. When he looked up and saw me, his expression hardened, and he let out a scoff. “So you decided to show up after all. I thought you were too proud to care whether my grandmother lived or died.” Grandmother Helen’s eyes lit up when she saw me. “Ida, sweetheart, come here. Come sit with me. I’m fine, just a little spike in my blood pressure. Colby made a mountain out of a molehill just to drag you here.” Selena chimed in smoothly. “That’s true, Ida. Colby was just worried about Helen. Though, you do seem so busy lately. It’s a shame you haven’t had any time to visit.” The underlying jab was clear: she was painting me as the neglectful, ungrateful granddaughter-in-law. Months ago, I would have scrambled to defend myself, throat tight with tears, desperate to clear my name in Colby’s eyes. But now, I merely offered her a mild, pleasant smile. “Since you have so much free time on your hands, Selena, feel free to do my part for me.” Selena froze, her delicate mask slipping for a fraction of a second before she cast a pleading look at Colby. “Colby…” she murmured. Colby set his phone down, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. “Ida, what is wrong with you? Selena is only trying to help, and you treat her like this?” I looked him straight in the eye. “My attitude is perfectly fine.” Grandmother Helen looked between us, her brow furrowing with concern. “Colby, Ida… are you two arguing?” “No, Helen,” Colby lied quickly. He reached out, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me out of the living room and into the quiet garden. “You canceled your credit card, blocked my number, and now you can’t even act civilized in front of my family? Are you actually convinced that I won’t go through with a divorce?” His voice trembled with tightly controlled anger. I gently rotated my wrist, waiting for the red marks to fade, before looking up. “I’m not playing games with you, Colby. You never wanted this legacy marriage in the first place. We’ve dragged each other through ten years of misery. I’m simply letting you go so you can be with Selena.” He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “Ida, don’t forget about your brother in the hospital. Who do you think pays his medical bills every month? My family. Without my money, he wouldn’t last three days.” He was entirely smug, convinced he held the ultimate leverage. At the mention of my brother, a phantom ache pierced through the emotional numbness in my chest. I looked up at him, a soft, dry laugh escaping my lips. “Colby, my brother died six months ago.” The smirk on his face shattered instantly, replaced by a look of sheer, panicked confusion. “What? Why… why didn’t I know about this?” My gaze remained empty as I answered him, letting each word fall heavy and cold between us. “Because when his heart stopped, you were in Antarctica, taking Selena to see the penguins. I don’t need your money anymore, Colby. We are completely finished.” A rare flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. “Ida, I… I’m sorry. I really didn’t know about your brother.” I let out a soft breath of laughter. “Your mind was always occupied with Selena. It’s only natural you knew nothing about my life.” His jaw clenched, his eyes searching mine before his tone turned sharp again. “Are you so desperate for a divorce because you found someone else?” The sheer insult of the accusation snapped the thin thread of my restraint. I raised my hand and slapped him, putting every ounce of my strength into it. The sound cracked like lightning through the quiet garden. “I simply stopped loving you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Colby touched his reddening cheek, his eyes wide with utter shock. “How… how is that possible? You used to love me more than anything.” He was right. I had loved him fiercely. In the early years of our marriage, encouraged by Helen, we had shared a fragile sort of happiness. He would come back from business trips with the lemon tarts I’d casually mentioned loving. And I would stay up all night brewing herbal tea whenever his stomach flared up. We had been clumsy, but we had been real. But then, once a year, Selena would reappear. The subtle shifts in his attention, the blatant favoritism he showed her, the constant reminders that his heart belonged to another woman—it took its toll. Ten years of slow, agonizing disappointment had finally ground my love down to dust. The red imprint of my hand was stark against his pale skin. He stood frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from mine. I looked past him. “That was a long time ago,” I said. I didn’t stay for dinner. After offering a quiet, apologetic goodbye to Helen, I left. “Sir, Ida has listed the downtown apartment for sale,” his secretary’s voice said over the line, cautious and quiet. Colby sat at his desk, a half-burned cigarette resting between his fingers. His brow furrowed. “What else is she selling?” “All the jewelry you purchased for her over the years. She brought them to a high-end consignor to liquidate them.” Colby crushed the cigarette into the glass tray, his face darkening with a sudden, sharp panic. At that exact moment, I was stepping out of the shower at my hotel room. My phone rang from the nightstand—an unfamiliar number. “Ida. You’ve gotten remarkably bold, blocking my actual number.” I held the phone a few inches away from my ear, keeping my voice entirely even. “Is there something you need, Colby?” Hearing me use his first name so formally made his breath hitch sharply on the other end. “What did you just call me? We’re not divorced yet. I am still your husband.” “Not for long,” I murmured, pinching my brow before hanging up. We were effectively over; there was no reason to entertain his temper anymore. The silence lasted only a few seconds before another notification buzzed. An unknown number had sent a text. “Give up the act, Ida. Colby is exhausted by these cheap little games of yours.” Below the text was an image. It was Selena, wearing a silk slip, resting her head comfortably against Colby’s shoulder in a plush hotel bed. She was smiling sweetly at the camera. Colby’s eyes were closed, seemingly asleep, though his brow was drawn tight in discomfort. Before I could even process the image, a heavy knock sounded at my door. Expecting room service, I pulled it open, only to be shoved backward. Colby stepped inside, catching me by the waist and pushing me onto the mattress. Before I could yell, he grabbed my left hand. He took several diamond bands and forced them onto my fingers, cold and heavy. “Ida, tell me what you want. What is it going to take to make you happy again?” He was trying to buy his way out of giving my anniversary ring to Selena. When I remained entirely unresponsive, his frustration turned into a desperate, furious desire. He leaned down, pressing his lips toward mine. With a sudden burst of energy, I wrenched my arm free and struck him across the face. He sat back, stunned, a look of profound defeat creeping into his eyes. “Selena and I… our history is complicated,” he rasped, his voice cracking. “I can’t just cut her out of my life overnight. Why must you obsess over this? She isn’t a threat to your marriage. You’re my wife.” Before I could reply, his phone began to vibrate. Selena’s name lit up the screen. “Colby? Where are you? My stomach… it hurts so bad…” her voice whimpered through the speaker. Colby looked at me, caught in a visible, painful hesitation. Finally, he exhaled. “I’m on my way back,” he said. He stood up, gave me one last lingering look, and left, the sound of his tires squealing in the parking lot below. I slowly took the rings off my fingers and listed them on a luxury consignment app for half their value. The next afternoon, my doctor sat across from me in his quiet clinic, looking over my latest brain scans with a heavy sigh. “If the decay continues at this rate, Ida, you won’t just lose your emotional register. Your cognitive recall will begin to deteriorate. It isn’t fatal, but carrying out a normal life will become incredibly difficult.” I tried to smile to reassure him, but I realized the muscles in my face felt heavy, unresponsive. “That’s alright,” I whispered. “Actually, it sounds quite peaceful.” I gathered my prescription and walked out of the office, only to collide with someone at the corner of the corridor. “Ida? What are you doing here?” Colby’s voice sounded from above, sharp with suspicion. Selena was beside him, wearing a light blue hospital gown, her face pale and fragile. “Colby… is Ida sick?” she asked softly, leaning down to reach for the small pill bottle that had slipped from my bag. “It’s none of your concern,” I said, snatching it up before she could touch it. Colby’s eyes narrowed. “Are you tracking me now, Ida?” I looked up at him, my expression blank. “I am seeing a doctor. I have neither the time nor the interest to follow you.” He let out a harsh laugh and snatched the paper bag out of my hands. “Faking an illness just to get my attention? You’ve really hit a new low. I gave you those rings to make things right. Stop acting so desperate. It’s pathetic.” “Give me my medicine, Colby,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. Instead, he tossed the bag carelessly into a nearby waste bin. “I’m tired of your drama. You’re pathetic, Ida.” Deep in my mind, the very last fragments of Colby began to dissolve. They became translucent, floating away like ash in the wind. I closed my eyes and took a long, slow breath. When my lawyer called, I was sitting in a quiet clinic with an IV drip in the back of my hand. “Ida, Colby is refusing to sign the divorce papers.” “I understand,” I replied. I hung up, staring blankly at the clear fluid trickling through the tube into my vein. I went back to the clinic twice over the next few days. The doctor confirmed that my cognitive decline was accelerating far quicker than they had anticipated. I started to forget things. Where I had left my keys. What I had eaten for lunch. The specific geometry of a familiar face. Sitting at a small sidewalk café, the latte beside me grew cold. I couldn’t quite recall when I had ordered it. Suddenly, the loud screech of tires broke my reverie. Colby grabbed my arm and practically dragged me into his passenger seat. “We’re going to Helen’s birthday gala,” he said, shifting into drive. “Her health is fragile. You wouldn’t want to break her heart by telling her we’re splitting up, would you?” The car was already speeding down the highway. I didn’t bother to fight him. The estate was glowing with fairy lights when we arrived. Valets rushed around sleek luxury sedans, and the garden was filled with the city’s high society gathered to celebrate Grandmother Helen. As I walked in behind Colby, a hundred eyes turned toward us. “Ah, look, Colby’s wife actually showed up.” “I heard he’s practically living with that Selena girl. I thought the wife was already out of the picture.” “Keep your voice down. It’s a mess.” The whispers swirled around us like a cold draft. My expression remained serene, as if the gossip had nothing to do with me. But Colby’s face hardened. He reached out and pulled me flush against his side, his grip tight around my waist. “Ida, darling! Come sit by me,” Grandmother Helen called from her armchair at the center of the room. I walked over and handed her the beautifully wrapped box Colby’s assistant had prepared. “Happy birthday, Helen. I hope this year brings you peace.” She squeezed my hand, her eyes crinkling with genuine joy. Then, a soft murmur rippled through the front entrance. Selena walked in, carrying an ornate wooden box, gliding straight toward Helen. “Happy birthday, Helen,” she said softly. “I had this blessing charm custom-made for you in Italy. I wanted to make sure you stay in good health.” Helen’s warm smile dimmed a fraction. She gave a polite, measured nod. “Thank you, Selena. That was very thoughtful.” Selena tightened her jaw slightly, then turned her focus to me. “Ida, you look beautiful tonight. Did Colby pick out that dress for you?” Her voice held a subtle edge. I was wearing a simple, unadorned black silk slip dress, while Selena was wearing a breathtaking, custom-made designer gown that caught every light. The guests watched us closely, their gazes shifting between the three of us. “Selena, you shouldn’t have traveled in your condition. Why are you here?” Colby stepped forward, instinctively taking her arm, his voice thick with concern. As Selena moved past me, her heel caught on the edge of the rug. She stumbled, falling directly toward me. “Oh!” she cried out. We collided with the nearby champagne tower, and the towering glass structure collapsed in a deafening crash. In that split second, Colby lunged forward—and pulled Selena protectively into his arms. I, on the other hand, was showered in cold alcohol and falling shards of glass. A sharp pain bloomed along my forearm as the broken glass sliced my skin. “Ida! Why did you push her?” Colby bellowed, staring down at Selena in his arms, his face flushed with protective fury. But as he looked over at me and saw the dark stains of champagne on my dress and the blood dripping from my arm, his voice died. He frowned, calling out for the housekeeper to fetch the medical kit. When the housekeeper rushed over with the first-aid box, I shook my head, declining gently. I turned to look at Helen. “Happy birthday, Helen. I’m not feeling very well, so I’ll take my leave now.” Helen looked at my ruined dress and the blood blooming on my skin, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Go home, sweetheart. Take care of those cuts. Let the driver take you.” “No, thank you. I’ll call an Uber,” I said. Colby stepped toward me, trying to block my path. I simply reached into my purse, pressed a heavy manila envelope into his chest, and walked past him into the night. Sitting in the quiet airport lounge an hour later, I realized with a wave of mild indifference that I had accidentally left my medical diagnosis inside that envelope along with the divorce papers. Oh well. It didn’t matter now. The plane began its slow rumble down the runway, the roar of the engines filling my ears. This was the end. Colby and I would likely never see each other again. And I wouldn’t be around to witness the moment he finally understood.
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