Six years into our marriage, my husband, Liam, suddenly updated his Ins story: “Whose adorable little noob is this, totally obsessed with gaming?” The picture showed a girl in a tight-fitting bunny T-shirt, pouting and cross-legged on a gaming chair. It was Ashley, the new idol from his company. I was staring, lost in thought, when a comment popped up from a mutual friend below: “Dude! You forgot to switch accounts!” Seconds later, Liam’s post vanished without a trace, only to reappear on Ashley’s Ins page shortly after. Liam called me almost immediately. Back in the day, I would have screenshot that post, saved it, and blown up at Liam, ready to raise hell until the world turned upside down. But this time, I just quietly watched the screen, waiting for the call to automatically hang up. When Liam finally got home, I was curled up on the sofa watching a movie. He tossed his car keys onto the entryway table, then bent down to change his shoes. “You’ve got nothing to do, so why didn’t you answer my call?” Liam rarely probed unless he had something to hide. My eyes didn’t leave the TV screen. I casually replied, “The movie was too good, I didn’t notice my phone.” “The client dinner dragged on, that’s why I’m late. You don’t need to sit here waiting for me every day. Nobody wants to see you making yourself so pathetic.” In the past, I would have tirelessly emphasized that this was just how much I loved him. But today, I suddenly couldn’t be bothered to say another word. Liam stood lazily in front of me, casually handing me a luxury brand paper bag. It was the premiere night for Liam’s company’s biggest show of the year. To celebrate the premiere and wish it huge success, I’d left work early, as usual, to cook a lavish meal and prepare drinks. I’d even invited a few of our mutual friends, expecting him to come home early so we could watch it together. But four episodes of the show had aired, our friends had finished dinner in an awkward silence and left, and still, there was no sign of Liam, who’d promised to be back early. I pretended not to see his gaming history, which showed ten hours straight of play. I took the shopping bag and set it on the carpet. I’d seen this exact bag before, just a while ago, when Liam missed our wedding anniversary. Even the shape and size were identical. Liam stared down at me for a moment, his brows furrowed, his voice turning cold. “Chloe, can you just stop throwing a tantrum?” Buying me gifts was Liam’s go-to apology. If I accepted the gift, he’d automatically assume everything was forgiven, and if I ever brought it up again, I’d be accused of never letting things go. Now that I wasn’t giving him an easy out, he was clearly annoyed. “I’ll open it for you.” Before I could speak, he unwrapped the package himself, pulling out a new bag and handing it to me. “The sales associate said this bag was really hard to get. You’ll definitely love it.” I lifted my eyes. Liam followed my gaze to the bag I’d casually tossed on the sofa when I rushed home to make dinner—it was exactly the same as the one in his hand. The atmosphere instantly froze. “It’s late. Let’s clean up and go to bed. We have work tomorrow.” I said in a detached tone, getting up to head to the bedroom. “I’ll have my assistant pick you up tomorrow. You can go pick out another one.” Liam’s voice held a rare show of cautiousness. “No need.” I refused him without even turning my head. The next morning, perhaps feeling that he’d truly overdone it, Liam, for the first time ever, suggested we go to the office together. Tired from a lack of sleep, I nodded. He stood by his car, his face a mix of suppressed frustration and impatience. I’d forgotten when it started, but Liam had begun making excuses not to let me ride in his car. He guarded his passenger seat like a sacred shrine, absolutely forbidding me to even touch it, forcing me to buy my own car. Any time I asked, he’d get all gruff and lecture me, saying my brain was rotting from too much internet, always fighting with him over some bizarre possessiveness about the passenger seat, claiming he had no time for my nonsense. But now, his passenger seat had clearly become Ashley’s exclusive domain. It was decorated with all sorts of plush bunny toys and covered in cute bunny stickers. The passenger seat itself was customized, just to make petite Ashley more comfortable; even the vanity mirror on the sun visor had been modified, just for Ashley to touch up her makeup. Liam glanced at me, then sighed and opened the car door, moving all the plush bunnies to the back seat. Watching his back, I frowned slightly and said, “Don’t bother. I’ll just drive myself to work.” Liam, still buried in the endless task of putting away the plush bunnies, mumbled, “I promised we’d go together. Ashley’s young, she just likes cute stuff, don’t take it personally.” Even without the plush toys, the customized seat was still all pink and cutesy, still clashed wildly with the car’s overall style. Ultimately, I didn’t get into Liam’s car. No other reason, just a feeling of nausea that made me want to throw up.
I unlocked my car, but Liam rushed over, pulled open the driver’s side door, and sat down. “I’ll drive. We can still go together.” I stood speechlessly by the car window, not missing the fleeting look of awkwardness in his eyes. So, he *did* know how messed up he’d made the passenger seat. Liam was silent for a few seconds, seemingly trying to figure out how to smooth things over. Not wanting to hear his excuses, I quickly cut him off. “We’re going to be late. Just drive.” He finally shut his mouth and started the car. We’d been driving for less than ten minutes when his phone rang – a sickly sweet pop song about ‘a racing heart and eyes that can’t look away.’ It was definitely Ashley singing. A faint, pitiful voice came from the phone, the kind that made you instantly want to protect her. “Big brother, my heart’s beating so fast. I think it’s because I stayed up too late playing games last night. I’m not going to die, am I, big brother? Waaah, big brother, come save me. I need big brother to take me to the hospital.” He hung up, not saying a word, not even glancing my way. He just pulled over immediately and reached over to unbuckle my seatbelt. His voice was curt, all business. “My artist isn’t feeling well. I need to rush over right away. The office isn’t far now; you can walk the rest of the way.” As soon as I got out and closed the car door, Liam impatiently started the car, leaving me with a cloud of pungent exhaust. This was a high-end business park where every square foot costs a fortune; nobody walked to work here. A small electric scooter, probably not expecting anyone to be walking across the crosswalk, rounded the corner and collided head-on with me without slowing down. I suffered soft tissue contusions to my forehead, palms, and knees, all to varying degrees. The nurse cleaned my wounds, taped on a few sterile gauze pads to prevent infection, and meticulously instructed me: “Take off the gauze when you get home tonight to apply the medicine. And whatever you do, don’t get them wet before they scab over.” On the way to the office in a taxi, the young driver was balancing two phones—one for navigation, and the other displaying Ashley’s live stream. The chat was filled with messages, all expressing concern for Ashley’s health. “Thanks for your concern, everyone! Don’t worry, Momo Bunny isn’t feeling so bad now, because Big Brother came like a superhero so quickly. My heart settled down.” “Nooo~ I didn’t confess to Big Brother, we’re not like that, don’t make stuff up, guys! Big Brother is just super, super kind, and super, super good to Momo Bunny~” Amidst her sweet, soft voice, two messages popped up on my phone. “Chloe, my assistant said you missed this morning’s project planning meeting? Where the hell are you?! Business comes first, do I really need to teach you that?!” “I asked you to walk a bit, and you’re throwing a tantrum and bailing on me?!” The rage and impatience in his words practically leaped off the screen to slap me in the face. I swear he had a split personality, otherwise, he wouldn’t treat us so differently. That evening, I changed my dressing in front of the mirror, then dragged my injured leg to the sofa to binge-watch a show. The fingerprint unlock sound echoed from the front door, followed immediately by Liam’s mocking voice. “I thought you’d finally changed your nasty attitude. You’ve been acting so docile lately, turns out you were just saving up to drop a bombshell on me, huh?” My still back must have infuriated him, because Liam rushed to the TV and forcefully yanked out the power cord. “Chloe, have you lost your damn mind?! This movie project is aiming for an award! Do you know how much money it costs to delay it even a single day?!” I still didn’t move or speak, just quietly watched him suddenly freeze. He scanned my forehead suspiciously, lingering on the ugly wound, and then his exposed elbows and knees. His brows furrowed. “What happened?” I met his gaze, replying indifferently, “Just a minor bump, got hit by a car on my way to work, that’s all.” Liam blinked, then suddenly reined in his temper and came over to examine my wounds. “You got into a car accident and didn’t even call me?” I pulled my hand away from his, speaking lightly. “Just a minor injury, not life-threatening. Besides, you were busy tending to your artist’s health.” What a joke, always playing the hero *after* the fact. He could say all the right things, but how many times had I called him only to get a torrent of accusations without bothering to ask what happened? Liam hadn’t cared if I was in danger for a long time. After being hurt so many times, if I still didn’t know he wouldn’t show up, then I truly was beyond stupid. Liam was especially sensitive to that comment. He suddenly stood up, glaring down at me with a cold sneer. “Do you really need to be so sarcastic? Chloe, was leaving you by the roadside some kind of heinous crime? You’re twenty-eight, not two point eight! You got hit by a car while walking, and you think you’re in the right?! I think you intentionally hurt yourself to get back at me!” I just stared at his sudden outburst, speechless. What else was there to say? I’d only spoken one sentence, and he’d slapped a ridiculous pile of accusations on me. I couldn’t be bothered to argue, so I got up to go back to the bedroom. Seeing how difficult it was for me to move, Liam reined in his temper, sighed, and came over to help me. “I’ll sleep with you tonight. Just call me if you need anything.” Liam hadn’t been back in our bedroom before 2 AM for a long time. Ashley needed to stream daily to gain popularity, and she claimed that nightly streams attracted harassers and she’d be scared without protection. So, Liam would reliably lock himself in his study every night, dedicating himself to guarding Ashley. He’d occasionally buy her virtual gifts to cheer her up or have sweet video calls, making sure everyone knew Ashley was under his wing. I’d fought with him countless times, tried everything, but I couldn’t change his mind. He said it was just work, and eventually even threatened me with divorce. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but I had no choice but to compromise. I looked into his eyes, not refusing his offer. But as he reached out to lift me, I softly said, “Liam, I agree to a divorce.”
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