The Five-Hour Husband

Chapter 1 Evelyn Vance only gave me a quota of five hours of free personal time each year. Eating a meal with me deducted forty minutes. Going back to visit my hometown deducted two hours. Even our intimacy was timed from the very first second she kissed me. Evelyn was the youngest senior partner at a top-tier white-shoe law firm. Her private consultation fee was $6,000 an hour. I always thought she was just meticulously strict about her time. Until the firm’s annual gala, when Liam Carter—the junior associate she had personally mentored—suddenly smiled and asked: “Evelyn, how much time does your husband have left this year?” Evelyn glanced at her phone. “Seventeen minutes.” The entire table erupted in laughter. Liam tilted his head up to look at her. “What about me?” Evelyn affectionately ruffled his hair. “You don’t need to be timed.” “Shopping for watches with you, getting late-night takeout, catching midnight premieres—when have I ever timed you?” I swallowed the roar of laughter from the crowd, silently guarding my final seventeen minutes. A month later, my father passed away suddenly from a massive heart attack. I used my last seventeen minutes to ask Evelyn to stay with me while I signed my father’s cremation papers. But later, my emotions completely broke down. I grabbed the cuff of Evelyn’s sleeve, begging her to stay for just ten more minutes. She didn’t push me away. I thought that in the face of my father’s death, she was finally willing to break her rule for me. The next day, her secretary sent me a bill for $1,000. That same afternoon, I pawned my wedding ring for $1,500. I used $1,000 to settle her invoice. With the remaining $500, I paid the deposit for an overseas legal translation institute. This time, I didn’t waste any more of her time. And I wasn’t going to waste any more of mine. …… Just after I transferred the $1,000, Evelyn’s secretary quickly sent a receipt confirmation. Attached to the email was a document titled: Personal Time Usage Breakdown for the Current Year. January: Anniversary dinner, 90 minutes. She was 35 minutes late, took a 46-minute phone call from Liam, and the time I actually spent speaking to her was only 9 minutes. Yet, a full 90 minutes was deducted from my quota. May: Hospitalized with a high fever. She stayed in my hospital room for 6 minutes. But that same night, she spent four hours in the ER with Liam for a mild 99-degree fever. August: Intimacy, 21 minutes. After it ended, craving her body heat, I held onto her for two extra minutes. Those two minutes were logged as a separate line item. The original file name of the attachment hadn’t been fully scrubbed. Five-Hour Husband Annual Quota Summary. I stared at those words, my vision blurring. I finally realized that this was what the people at her firm called me behind my back. The Five-Hour Husband. The title I had earned from six years of marriage. It felt like something was blocking my throat. It took a long time before I could force the tears back down. In my inbox sat the enrollment confirmation from the institute in London. There were only twelve days left until orientation. I wiped the moisture from the corners of my eyes and returned to my hometown to handle my father’s affairs. While processing the burial paperwork, the staff member glanced at the family section. “Your wife didn’t come today?” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My father’s old friend, Uncle Ray, quickly covered for me. “Evelyn is a big-shot lawyer. She’s busy.” “Old Mitch always used to say we shouldn’t let family matters delay his daughter-in-law.” The room suddenly went quiet. Uncle Ray looked at my red eyes, hesitated for a long time, and finally spoke in a low voice: “Last winter, your dad heard Evelyn’s stomach ulcers were acting up. He got up in the middle of the night to make her soup, and I drove him to the firm.” “He waited in the lobby for three hours. They didn’t even let him upstairs.” “When that Liam kid came down, he asked if your dad was trying to eat into your five hours, and told him not to come make a mess without an appointment.” My fingernails instantly dug into my palms. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Uncle Ray looked away. “Your dad wouldn’t let me.” “He said your marriage was hard enough already. He didn’t want to humiliate you.” I lowered my head, tears crashing down onto my father’s memorial photo without warning. My father covered for me until the day he died. He didn’t know that I had lost my dignity in the Vance family a long time ago. I found the insulated thermos in the cupboard. Taped to the lid was a crooked note in my father’s handwriting. Evelyn has a bad stomach. Drink less coffee. My phone screen lit up exactly at that moment. Liam had just posted an Instagram story. In the photo, Evelyn was holding a black Amex card, smiling as she paid for his purchase, the corners of her lips turned up. “My first big-boy toy as an adult, gifted by Evelyn.” “The car, the watch, the house, and the love—she gave it all to me. Try not to be too jealous, someone!” I stared at it for a long time, until the screen went completely dark. When I got home that night, the light in the study was on. Evelyn had told me she had work to do. But as I walked past the door, I heard her affectionate, indulgent laughter. “You made me wait in line for two hours and you’re still not satisfied?” “Fine, I’ll stay on the phone with you tonight.” “No, this time doesn’t count.” I froze outside the door, a sour ache blooming in my nose. Chapter 2 I lowered my eyes and walked past the study. When Evelyn saw me, her smile faded slightly. She quickly ended the call, followed me into the bedroom, and wrapped her arms around me from behind. As her familiar perfume pressed down on me, my body dodged away before my mind could even process it. Evelyn’s hands froze in mid-air. She stayed silent for a moment before slowly adjusting her cuffs. “Your reaction today is a bit irrational.” “If you care that much about the $1,000, you could have just brought it up.” I gripped my father’s jacket tightly and didn’t look at her. Evelyn’s tone remained steady. “I understand you are in a grieving period, which is why I didn’t push you away at the crematorium.” “But understanding your emotions does not mean the rules become invalid.” When she finished, much like resolving a simple legal dispute, she offered a settlement. “Next year, I’ll increase your quota by one hour.” “Tonight’s hug won’t be timed either. That should be sufficient.” My eyes burned. “There’s no need,” I replied softly. Evelyn stared at me for a few seconds. The rare sliver of patience in her eyes slowly faded. “Refusing a solution and using silence to continuously express your dissatisfaction only makes communication meaningless.” “Leaving the firm back then was a choice based on your own personal desires.” “This marriage was an arrangement you actively accepted.” “To frame them now as sacrifices isn’t fair to me.” Every sentence was rigorous, clear, and perfectly bulletproof. She stood in the courtroom of our life, dismissing my six years point by point. Six years ago, I was a lawyer at the same firm. After I won three consecutive cases, Evelyn called me into her office and asked if I wanted to maintain an exclusive physical relationship with her. “I don’t have the time to get to know a new man from scratch.” “You’re familiar with my habits. You’re the most suitable.” I asked her what would happen to my job. She answered without a second of hesitation. “Quit.” “When I need you, I don’t want to have to wait for you to finish a trial.” I had loved her for so long that I ultimately gave up my budding career to stay by her side. I had a moment of clarity once and packed my bags to leave. Evelyn chased me to the train station and grabbed my hand in the crowd. Her voice was unusually gentle. “Don’t go. Come back with me.” “I’ll give you a marriage, and in the future, I’ll give you time.” I believed her. Now, that ring had been traded for ten minutes of her company. And the career she had personally severed was now entirely “my own choice.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. A new email from the institute. Please arrive on time for orientation in twelve days. Looking at that sentence, my tears finally fell. Six years ago, Evelyn knew my train schedule, so she was able to drag me back. This time, I wouldn’t tell her my flight. My father couldn’t bear to take up her time even in death. My farewell wouldn’t take up her time, either. Chapter 3 When I clicked “Confirm Enrollment,” Evelyn was still standing at the bedroom door. She glanced at the screen. “That overseas institute again?” “Yes.” “You applied for that three years ago too.” Her tone was flat, clearly not taking it seriously. “There are still many logistical hurdles between confirming enrollment and actually leaving. Let’s talk when you actually have everything in order.” She was absolutely certain I wouldn’t go through with it. And certain I couldn’t bear to leave her. As I put my phone away, Evelyn’s gaze fell on my left hand. “Where is your wedding ring?” Only a faint, pale indentation remained on my ring finger. That ring was worth $68,000. Before the wedding, Evelyn took me to a high-end jeweler. She only looked at one display case before pointing to the ring in the dead center. Choosing it took thirty-two seconds. Swiping the card took fourteen. Before the tea in the VIP lounge was even served, we were walking out of the store. At the time, I only remembered that she didn’t even ask the price when she paid, and I secretly rejoiced over it for a long time. Only later did I realize: she was willing to spend her money, but she wasn’t willing to spend a single extra minute on me. “I pawned it.” Evelyn’s brow twitched. “Why?” “To pay that $1,000 bill.” She fell silent for two seconds, quickly recovering her composure. “If you needed money, you could have drawn from the secondary credit card.” She didn’t even ask if the ring could be redeemed. A knock sounded at the door. Without waiting for an answer, Liam pushed the door open and walked in. “Evelyn, why did you hang up on me just now?” His tone was whiny and flirtatious as his hand naturally climbed up Evelyn’s arm. The limited-edition watch on his wrist glinted blindingly under the light. Last Christmas, my father gave Evelyn a $1,000 holiday check. Evelyn turned around and gave it to Liam, then spent four hours walking around the mall with him, covering the difference to buy that exact watch. For one of Liam’s watches, she patiently shopped for an entire afternoon. Liam noticed me looking and raised his wrist to jingle it. “Does Arthur recognize this?” “The holiday money your dad gave Evelyn was put toward this watch.” He suddenly paused, as if just remembering my father had passed away. “Now that your dad is gone, does this count as one of his relics?” “You wouldn’t make me give it back, would you, Arthur?” Evelyn glanced at him. “Liam, watch your phrasing.” Her tone carried no weight. Liam smiled and casually picked up her water glass to take a sip. “I just didn’t want Arthur to misunderstand.” Evelyn didn’t stop him. I looked at them, and suddenly wanted to ask one final question for the version of myself from the last six years. “Why?” Evelyn looked up. “What?” “When you eat with me, go home with me, or take me to the hospital, you have to calculate the time.” “But when you help him pick out watches, watch movies, and get late-night food, you never count a second.” Evelyn didn’t dodge the question. Like evaluating a case, she gave the clearest possible answer. “Liam is a key associate the firm is heavily investing in.” “His growth translates directly into billable hours and creates long-term revenue for the firm.” She paused, her eyes sweeping across my face. “You currently have no professional output.” “The time you spend waiting for me has no commercial value.” The final, faint thread tugging at my chest snapped in silence. I lowered my eyes, and even the sorrow faded away. Liam leaned against her, reaching up to adjust her slightly messy collar. A gesture that used to keep me awake all night now provoked absolutely nothing in me. But Evelyn looked at me. It seemed my calmness made her far more uncomfortable than an argument would have. She pulled out her tablet and forwarded me the personal time schedule for next year. “The five hours have been pre-allocated.” “Time has been reserved for your birthday, our anniversary, your physical exam, and two family dinners.” Liam snatched the tablet right out of her hands. “I have a mock arbitration on Arthur’s birthday. Move the dinner to next week.” “The anniversary needs to be shortened too. I land that night, and Evelyn has to come pick me up.” Holding the stylus, he casually circled and crossed out dates on my schedule. Evelyn only offered a mild warning: “Don’t pack it too tight.” Liam smiled and handed the mutilated calendar back to me. “Make sure you confirm it, Arthur.” “If you make any last-minute changes, it comes out of your own quota.” I looked at the unrecognizable schedule and pressed Decline. Evelyn frowned slightly. “Why won’t you accept it?” “I won’t need it.” Liam was still clinging to her arm. Evelyn stared at me for a few seconds, but ultimately didn’t press the issue. That evening, my mother-in-law called. She only had two sentences for me: “Your father is already cremated. Stop bringing your depressing energy around Evelyn.” “Bring Liam to the house tonight. He made the partner track shortlist, and the family is throwing him a celebration.” Evelyn put her phone down and looked at me. “We’ll come back right after we eat. Family dinners do not count toward your five hours.” I nodded. Chapter 4 As Liam got into her passenger seat, he turned back and smiled at me. “Sorry you have to endure this, Arthur. Your father just died, and you still have to celebrate my promotion.” At the Vance family’s long dining table, Liam sat right beside Evelyn as always. My mother-in-law poured his wine personally. “When you quit the firm back then, the associate slot opened up and went straight to Liam.” “Looking at it now, that spot definitely didn’t go to waste.” Liam raised his glass to me. “I really should thank Arthur.” “If Arthur hadn’t left, I might not have gotten the chance to be personally mentored by Evelyn.” Seeing my red eyes, Evelyn cut in with a flat tone. “Associate slots rotate based on merit. They don’t belong to anyone.” “Liam stayed because he created sufficient value.” My mother-in-law smiled and nodded. “A man still needs his own career.” “Waiting around for a woman all day, ending up having to beg your wife for a measly five hours—how pathetic is that?” The whole table laughed. I kept my head down and slowly drank my tea, which had long gone cold. When the dinner ended, a maid brought a cardboard box down from upstairs. My mother-in-law casually pushed it toward me. “I had them clear out that nursery in your house.” “When Liam and Evelyn work late, he can organize files in there. It’s close to the study.” Evelyn’s face darkened. “Who gave you permission to touch that room?” “A baby you couldn’t even keep—what’s the point of letting it take up a room?” My mother-in-law looked entirely indifferent. “You can’t let a living person’s career take a backseat to a baby that’s been dead for two years.” Liam clung to Evelyn’s arm. “Evelyn, let’s just put it back.” “I’m sure Arthur can’t bear to give his baby’s room to me.” “There’s no need.” I picked up the box. “I won’t be needing it anymore either.” Evelyn glanced at me, seemingly catching something in my tone. But Liam had a cross-border arbitration call at 10:00 PM. In the end, all she said was: “Let’s go.” It was pouring rain outside. Liam sat in the passenger seat, while I sat in the back with the box. As the car got onto the highway, he suddenly turned around and pulled the ultrasound scan out of the box. “So this was the baby you guys couldn’t keep.” He held it up against the streetlights, then clicked on the fetal heartbeat monitor next to it. A rapid, vibrant heartbeat echoed through the car. Liam laughed and asked, “Evelyn only gives Arthur five hours a year.” “If this baby were still here, would he have had to split his five hours with him?” My breathing violently stopped. Evelyn gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Liam, put it back.” Liam pouted. As he reached back to return the items, a car suddenly swerved into our lane. Evelyn slammed on the brakes. The coffee near Liam’s hand splashed entirely across the ultrasound scan. The heartbeat monitor rolled under the passenger seat and was violently crushed beneath the heel of his dress shoe. I threw myself forward and pulled it out from under the seat. The casing was cracked open, the memory card snapped cleanly in half. The ultrasound scan was completely soaked in coffee. The tiny silhouette of my child blurred into a dark, unrecognizable smudge right before my eyes. “Oops. Sorry, Arthur.” Liam looked at my bloodshot eyes. I rubbed the ultrasound scan with my sleeve, my fingers trembling so hard I could barely hold it. “Get off at the next exit.” “There’s a 24-hour data recovery shop nearby.” Evelyn glanced at the time. “Liam’s conference call is in seventeen minutes.” “I’ll take you after I drop him off.” I gripped the shattered monitor. “Water got into the device. The longer we wait, the harder it will be to recover.” “Going to the shop first will only delay you by ten minutes.” Her voice was frighteningly calm. “An image and a two-year-old recording. Recovering them won’t change the outcome. It’s meaningless.” I looked up, tears finally spilling over. “That was our child.” Evelyn looked at me through the rearview mirror, her expression freezing. She was silent for a long time. “I’ll cancel the five-hour limit next year. Family matters will no longer be timed.” “Consider that my compensation. Is that acceptable?” I was about to argue, but she hit the hazard lights and pulled the car over. It was raining in torrents outside. The nearest exit was still six hundred yards away. She looked at my red eyes and unlocked the doors. “You get out and go home first. Your emotional state right now will disrupt Liam’s preparation.” Evelyn personally opened the car door for me. Seeing my pale face, a rare trace of heartbreak finally surfaced in her eyes. She took off her jacket and draped it over my shoulders. “Secretary Davis will meet you at the exit. Don’t catch a cold.” I held the only two remaining relics of my child, utterly shattered, and stepped out into the rain. I walked down the emergency lane of the highway and rushed to the data recovery shop. The technician opened the monitor, but ultimately shook his head. At 1:00 AM, I placed the signed divorce papers on Evelyn’s desk. At 2:40 AM, my rescheduled flight took off precisely on time. This time, I didn’t want her five hours, or any of her time for the rest of her life.

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