Valentine’s Day. I had a candlelit dinner ready, waiting for my wife to get off work. It was almost nine PM when she finally texted me: “Something came up at the office. Don’t wait for me.” But the next second, I saw a post on Ins from her secretary, Jax. “On a business trip with my female boss for Valentine’s Day, and all the hotels are fully booked. This is awkward…” The photo showed a woman in a bathrobe, her back to the camera, looking out a floor-to-ceiling window. The comments were full of praise for him, saying he was lucky, and how curvaceous and feminine his boss was. Jax just replied with a dog-face emoji. So, Scarlett’s “something came up” meant taking her male secretary for a “good time.” I immediately screenshotted his Ins post and put it on my SnapChat Story, adding a smirking emoji. The next second, Scarlett’s call came through. She ripped into me: “Jax was just kidding around! Why are you being so petty? What kind of grown man is so small-minded?!” I hung up on her, then sent a text: “Let’s divorce.”
It was two AM when Scarlett came home. The moment she pushed open the door, we just stared at each other. Neither of us spoke first. Scarlett’s gaze drifted to the candlelit dinner in the dining room, but there wasn’t a hint of guilt in her eyes. Instead, she exploded: “So what if I came home a little late?! What was that SnapChat Story supposed to mean? You’re always so passive-aggressive, it’s so annoying!” Seeing I wasn’t responding, she tossed a tie at me. “Jax bought this specially for you. See how thoughtful he is? He said if you still don’t accept his apology, he’ll just delete his Ins account.” I looked at the old creases on the tie and chuckled. An old tie. Probably one he’d worn himself. Jax really knew how to get under my skin. Scarlett saw me smile and probably thought I’d calmed down. She picked up my phone from the table and handed it to me. “Jax was so considerate, aren’t you going to thank him?” I ignored her and kept watching TV. “Leo Sterling, are you deaf?” She yanked me up, and I lost my balance, crashing to the floor. And, just my luck, my back slammed into the corner of the table. God, it hurt! The injury on my back was from that fire seven years ago. I’d saved Scarlett, but heavy debris had fallen, hitting me and leaving an old wound that never truly healed. I lay on the floor, clutching my back, trembling in agony. Scarlett looked at me, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. “I’ll go get the cream.” I looked up at her retreating back, wanting to stop her, but held my tongue. That medical report in the drawer? It had been sitting there for three days. After the results came back, the doctor had been clear: early-stage stomach cancer. “Highly curable,” he’d said, “but you need to stay positive, watch your diet, take your meds, and be extremely careful.” Easy for him to say. Right next to the report were two tickets for a seven-day trip to Iceland. I’d planned to tell her on Valentine’s Day, hoping we could relax together before my surgery. Now? What’s the point? Scarlett rushed over with the first-aid kit, rummaging through it for a moment before stopping dead. “The cream, it’s gone, isn’t it…?” She trailed off, but not before I caught a flicker of something on her face: guilt, mixed with a hint of shame. She was busted. Jax’s reply to a comment on Ins flashed in my mind: “She’s so sweet. I accidentally burned myself cooking, and she immediately put cream on it for me.” If it weren’t for everything that just happened, I would have grilled Scarlett about that special imported cream I’d asked someone to get for her – if she’d given it to Jax. But this time, I didn’t call her out. I forced a wry smile. “Scarlett, don’t bother looking. I’ll go buy some.” Scarlett looked at me, her expression grim. “How are you going to go out looking like that? Just stay home, I’ll go…” Before she could finish, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and immediately answered. “Jax, what’s up?” Jax’s whiny voice came through the phone. “Ms. Sterling, I’m feeling down and drinking at a bar. Some guys started trouble and hurt me. Can you take me to the hospital…?” Scarlett threw the first-aid kit onto the sofa and shot to her feet. “Jax, wait there. I’m coming right away.” “Ms. Sterling, thank you, but maybe you shouldn’t come. Leo will get mad. I’ll figure it out myself!” “What right does he have to be mad?!” She then shot me a cold glare, still curled up on the floor. After hanging up, Scarlett rushed to leave. “Scarlett, wait!” I called out to her. “Leo, can you stop being so dramatic?” “Without your phone and wallet, how exactly are you going to ‘rescue’ anyone?” I gestured to the sofa. Her phone and wallet lay there, innocently beside the first-aid kit. Scarlett glanced at them, stunned for a moment. “I’ll go help Jax first, then I’ll take you to the hospital when I get back.” With that, she dashed out the door.
Day broke, but Scarlett still hadn’t returned. The pain intensified. I couldn’t bear it anymore, so I called an ambulance. While waiting, I scrolled through Ins and stumbled upon Jax’s latest post. He basically wrote about intervening in a bar fight, protecting a girl from some creeps, and how Scarlett rushed to the hospital to be with him. He was “so touched” she’d come out so late for him. Underneath the post was a photo of Scarlett, her eyes teary, applying cream to Jax’s injury, with the caption: “Love conquers all, and faces all.” The comments section was brutal. One read: “A woman that hot in front of you, and you held back? Dude, are you even straight?” Another chimed in: “Seriously, if she showed up for me in the middle of the night, I wouldn’t just be asking her to put on cream…” Jax, with a smug emoji, replied: “What’s the rush? She’ll be mine eventually!” … The ambulance arrived, and medical staff carefully put me on a stretcher. While getting an IV in the emergency room, I sent a SnapChat message to my best friend, Ryan. “Ryan, I’m getting a divorce.” After I got home from the hospital, I rested for a few days. I thought things might calm down, until I was woken up by incessant phone calls. I groggily answered. Scarlett’s voice on the other end was cold. “I’m picking you up for dinner.” Before I could reply, she hung up. I figured I should try to be civil before the divorce, so I got dressed and went out. Seeing how exhausted I looked, Scarlett suddenly remembered she’d forgotten to buy me cream. “The restaurant is near the hospital, so I’ll take you there first.” “No need. It’s been days. I’m fine.” She sighed in relief. “I figured. It’s been seven years, after all. Any pain you feel is probably just in your head.” I gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Right, seven years.” Back then, I had used every ounce of my strength to push Scarlett out, leaving myself trapped under falling timber in the raging fire. Three of my ribs were fractured, my tailbone cracked. All these years later, even the slightest bump sends agonizing pain through me. I never told Scarlett about the lasting after-effects, fearing her guilt. Instead, she called it my “victim mentality.” But we’d been together for seven years. If she truly loved me, truly cared, how could she not know if I was in pain? Scarlett drove, telling me about that night. “I took Jax to the hospital. His scrapes were pretty bad. I was worried he’d be uncomfortable in the middle of the night, so I stayed with him a bit longer. Don’t overthink it.” I stared blankly out the car window. “I’m not overthinking it. He’s your secretary. It’s perfectly natural for you to spend a few extra days with him.” Scarlett clearly wasn’t happy with my answer. She slammed on the brakes, sending my headphones tumbling under the seat. I bent down to retrieve them, but instead, I found a pair of men’s swimming trunks tucked away. Half a month ago, I would have gone ballistic, waving those trunks in her face. But now? I just gave a wry chuckle, picked them up, and tossed them onto the back seat. Scarlett looked flustered. “Oh, those? Jax must have left them in the car after his swimming lesson. Accidentally.” I nodded, resuming my stare out the window. At dinner, a couple at the next table kept staring at Scarlett and me. When I noticed their gaze, the girl approached us. “Excuse me, are you the female CEO from Jax’s Ins posts? You’re even more gorgeous in person!” Scarlett looked up at her. “Can I help you?” The girl, clearly intrigued, pressed on, “So, are you and Jax dating?” Scarlett glanced at me, still eating, then smiled at the girl. “Yes, Jax and I are together.” I managed a weak smile back at the girl, but then a sharp pain shot through my stomach. The girl looked at me, confused. “Then who is he?” Scarlett blurted out, “The security guard.”
Before the girl left, she clung to Scarlett, saying, “I’ll always support you two! You absolutely have to get married!” Scarlett watched them go, then turned to me and put an ice cream scoop on my plate. “Honey, don’t mind it. Jax’s ‘domineering female CEO falls for me’ video series on Ins is super popular right now. It’s great PR for the company. You wouldn’t believe how thrilled he is. If I contradicted him in private, he’d be crushed.” Her explanation? I couldn’t care less. “I don’t mind. You don’t need to explain.” By now, the sharp pain in my stomach was getting worse. I clutched my abdomen, my face turning deathly pale. On the way home, Scarlett got another call from Jax. “Ms. Sterling, can you pick me up from the swimming pool? I forgot my change of clothes and can’t easily get a cab. Please, please, please!” Unable to resist Jax’s pleading, Scarlett smiled, her voice softening. “Okay, okay, I’ll be right there.” Scarlett hung up, then took my hand and kissed it. “Honey, we’ll pick Jax up together. That way, you won’t overthink things.” “Scarlett, you can’t go. My stomach hurts so bad! You need to take me to the hospital, now! Hurry!” Her face darkened immediately when she heard me. “Leo, can you stop being so dramatic? I wanted to take you along precisely so you *wouldn’t* overthink things, and now you’re trying to fake an injury for sympathy?” “I’m not playing games! Take me to the hospital, quickly! I’m not kidding, I’m really in pain!” “Stop faking it. You’re not even convincing.” I was swaying, my vision tunneling black. “I have stomach cancer, and my stomach hurts like hell right now, so we *have* to go to the hospital!” Scarlett didn’t believe a word. She glared at me, furious. “You playing games with me is one thing, but now you’re faking stomach cancer? We’ve been married for four years; you’ve been perfectly fine! How could you suddenly get cancer? Oh, and now that I’m going to pick up Jax, you’re suddenly in pain?” Her anger escalated. She slammed on the brakes. “Get out! Just get out! You’re so desperate for the hospital? Then go! Stop wasting my time, I need to pick up Jax!” “Fine, I’ll get out.” I was about to open the door, but she grabbed my arm. “I really can’t be too nice to you, you’ve become so disobedient!” “Let’s get a divorce, Scarlett.” My words seemed to stun her. “Divorce?” I nodded. “Ryan has already prepared the divorce papers for me.” She let go of me, looking utterly shocked. “Leo, are you serious about divorcing me? You’d better think this through. Besides me, no one else would want a petty, small-minded man like you!” “I’ve thought it through. Goodbye.” With that, I tried to get out of the car. Seeing me about to leave, she floored the accelerator. The sudden lurch of the car threw me out. Amidst the screams of passersby, I lay in a pool of blood. Scarlett drove off without a single glance back. Blood steadily bloomed beneath me, a terrifying, beautiful crimson, spreading like dark, ominous flowers on a path to oblivion, surrounding me, petal by agonizing petal. When I woke up again, I was in a hospital bed. Ryan and Scarlett’s parents were there, but Scarlett herself was nowhere to be seen. Mr. Sterling was trembling with rage.
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