I spent ten whole years with Marcus, going from absolutely nothing to carving out a place in high society. During our toughest times, he’d say: “You went through hell and back with me, Hazel. I, Marcus, will never let you down. I love you, only you.” But later, it was the same Marcus who told his friends: “I’ve been with Hazel for ten years. I’ve wanted a divorce for ages, but I couldn’t bear to leave the kid. There’s no such thing as young love anymore, we couldn’t stand the sight of each other.” He even got into a massive brawl over a struggling college student caught in a messy situation, making a scene that couldn’t be controlled. I showed up with the bail money and got him out of the precinct. But he retorted, his voice tinged with anger, “Hazel, have you forgotten? You’re someone who clawed their way out of the mud yourself. How can you look down on her now?” I gave a small, bitter laugh. “Now I not only look down on her, Marcus, I look down on you too. Let’s get a divorce.”
“Is this Ms. Hazel? This is the city police department. Your husband, Marcus, has been detained for fighting, and we need you to come handle it.” After hanging up, my mind went blank. The silence around me was only broken by the frantic thumping of my own heart. Driving from home to the city police department usually took about ten minutes, but now, I didn’t want to drive. I settled Lily with Mrs. Gable, slipped into soft, comfortable sneakers, and spent a full half-hour walking there. With each step, I measured the distance that had grown between Marcus and me. Inside the police station, Marcus was handcuffed, with a wild, aggressive look in his eyes, radiating hostility. He wasn’t badly hurt, just a minor scrape on his forehead. But the other guy he’d beaten was bruised and swollen, clearly Marcus had really gone for it, like he meant to cause serious damage. I’d only seen Marcus like this once before, back in his teenage years. In middle school, I got a fever, and the doctor gave me a penicillin shot, which triggered an anaphylactic shock. No skin test was performed, which was medical malpractice. The clinic doctor knew he was in the wrong and offered to treat me for free. My mother didn’t hesitate for a second. She just abandoned me at that private little clinic. The doctor used the excuse of a physical exam to pull my school uniform up to my chest. His eyes lingered, assessing, then his hands clamped down on me. “I’ll give you a massage to ease your palpitations. It’ll help you breathe better.” He pressed down on me hard. I wanted to fight back, but I had no strength, only tears streaming down my face. I thought, this time, I surely wouldn’t survive. Just as despair set in, Marcus kicked open the clinic door. He doused the doctor’s head with scalding soup, then lunged at him. Marcus was tall, over six feet, but skinny, barely 130 pounds. Yet his eyes were bloodshot, and he laid into the doctor with murderous intent. Punch after punch landed. When the doctor collapsed, I ripped the IV needle from my arm, grabbed Marcus, and we ran out. “Don’t stop me! I’m going to kill that animal!” I hugged Marcus, my voice trembling. “Please, don’t do anything rash, Marcus. I only have you.” He gently ran his fingers through my hair, his nose streaming with blood. “Hazel, don’t be scared. I’ll always protect you.” I remember Marcus, with his slender shoulders, protecting me countless times. When my mother beat me with a leather strap, he held me tight, shielding me, taking the heaviest blows himself. When I was bullied, cornered in an alley by a few thugs from outside school, he’d charge in, brandishing a knife, ready to take on five guys by himself, just to keep me safe. Even if he got beaten black and blue, he’d use his blood-stained hands to gently wipe away my tears. “Hazel, don’t be scared. As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.” Marcus was like a beam of light, illuminating my dark, suffocating world and warming me for so long. He once told me, “In this life, I’ll only protect you.” But now, he was fighting for another girl. A raw ache in my chest, a prickling pain that took my breath away.
The other guy’s constant yelling snapped me back to reality. “He *must* apologize and pay compensation, or he’s going to jail!” Marcus pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his eyes sharp as blades. “You keep running your mouth, and I’ll send you straight to hell!” If he hadn’t been handcuffed, he’d surely have lunged at them again. I calmly negotiated the compensation with the other party. Marcus paced back and forth inside like a caged beast, visibly agitated. I successfully settled the matter for a hundred thousand dollars, securing their agreement. Once everything was handled, Marcus’s handcuffs were removed, and he was released. Before I could even speak, a girl in a uniform from a local club rushed out of the interrogation room. She ran to Marcus, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry, I got you into this mess. You shouldn’t have bothered with me.” I recognized this girl. Her name was Willow, a college student Marcus had been sponsoring. Last year, I noticed their chats becoming more frequent. At first, Marcus didn’t pay much attention to this poor student; he simply had his secretary wire her money on time. Later, Willow managed to get Marcus’s contact information and started sharing her daily life with him. Willow would be overjoyed by a delicious piece of cake, happily snapping photos to show Marcus – not just the cake, but also her radiant smile. Marcus would glance at them coldly, a look of disdain on his face. “It’s just a piece of cake. Why be so happy about it? I found her so fake.” Willow would also send photos of herself in a dazzling outfit, gracefully dancing on stage during school cultural performances. Marcus responded for the first time then, but when he faced me, he feigned indifference. “Kids nowadays are so lucky to go to college. If you could’ve gone to college, Hazel, you’d have guys lining up around the block, I wouldn’t have stood a chance.” But he didn’t even realize that as he spoke to me, his eyes kept returning to the photos on his phone. In fact, every time he mentioned Willow, he was smiling. Most of the time, Willow had an intense desire to share everything with Marcus, and she’d always subtly ask him little questions, hoping for the older brother’s patient answers. Marcus would grumble, yet he’d always respond to her without fail. How could I not see through a young girl’s little schemes? I snatched Marcus’s phone, my voice full of annoyance. “Can you please stop talking about Willow in front of me?” He grinned playfully, flashing his charming canine teeth, and asked, “My sweet Hazel, are you getting jealous?” He teased me while deleting Willow’s contact information. It wasn’t until a few days later that I saw Willow’s social media post. “Who says a crush is a moth to a flame? Our feelings are mutual, a destined path. You opened your arms, and I stumbled towards you.” The caption was accompanied by a photo of intertwined hands. That mole, starkly visible on the hand, burned my eyes. It was Marcus’s right hand. My left hand had an identical mole. Marcus used to say it was proof of our love. Forever and always. But he lied. I thought, this time, Marcus had truly fallen for Willow.
Marcus grew impatient. “Didn’t I tell you not to work there? I’m spending so much money sending you to college, and you’re putting yourself in such a dangerous situation?” Willow lowered her head, biting her thin lip. “My mom is sick and needs a lot of money. But I didn’t want to ask you for it, I was afraid you’d misunderstand, think I was only approaching you for your money. I… I just want to earn money myself to pay for my mom’s treatment.” She grew more agitated, beginning to sob. When she looked up, her face was streaked with tears. As soon as she cried, Marcus’s heart softened. His voice softened, and he gently ruffled her hair. “But did you ever think, in that kind of situation, if I hadn’t shown up in time, you could have been taken advantage of?” “But you did come, didn’t you? I knew you couldn’t leave me alone.” Willow sounded a little smug. I couldn’t listen anymore. Fighting back my discomfort, I slowly spoke. “Marcus, let’s go home. Lily is waiting for you.” Marcus’s eyes darkened. Before he could speak, Willow hooked her arm through his and pleaded, “Please stay with me today, okay? I told my mom I’d bring my boyfriend to see her today. Just pretend with me, please. She doesn’t have many days left.” Then, she turned to me, her voice almost begging. “Hazel, you understand, don’t you?” I didn’t look at her. Instead, I asked Marcus again, despite my efforts to stay calm, my voice trembled. “Come home with me, please?” Marcus frowned. “Didn’t you hear Willow say her mom is dying? Can’t you stop being so petty and jealous? Have some sympathy, please?” “Just listen to me, go home first, be a good girl.” Willow stood by, a faint smile playing on her lips. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Marcus, how long are you going to keep helping her? You’re paying her tuition, showering her with concern, and now you’re going to pretend to be her boyfriend? How far exactly are you willing to go?” “She has so many male classmates, why does she only ask *you*? Are you two planning to turn this fake relationship into a real one? Or have you already?” Marcus froze, apparently not expecting me to say that. He’d thought he’d hidden it well enough. “Hazel, don’t make a scene. Willow is going through so much alone. Why can’t you try to understand her? I remember you weren’t like this before, you used to be so kind.” I gave a cold laugh. “Yes, I was kind. But I wasn’t so kind that I’d hand over my husband to another woman.” “I’m so sorry, Hazel. Don’t blame Marcus. I won’t let him go, okay? Don’t be angry with him, he looks so pathetic when you yell at him.” Willow pouted, with big, teary eyes that looked utterly heartbroken. Just one glance, and Marcus’s face softened with concern. He frowned deeply, shielding her behind him. My tears were invisible to him, but Willow’s tears landed right on his heart. I scoffed, my voice laced with mockery. “Oh, the classic ‘dead dad, dying mom, poor helpless me’ routine? Her tragic backstory just keeps stacking up, it’s a masterclass in manipulation, and you’re too blind to see it.” “Marcus, are you really going to throw away our ten years of shared history for a girl like that?” Marcus froze, then retorted angrily, “Hazel, have you forgotten? You’re someone who clawed their way out of the mud yourself. How can you look down on her now?” I gave a small, bitter laugh. “Now I not only look down on her, Marcus, I look down on you too. Let’s get a divorce.” Marcus’s voice was hoarse. “Hazel, don’t make a scene. Just go home and wait for me, okay?” I stood there, coldly watching him. He practically shoved Willow into his car, then drove off without a backward glance.
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