My wife, Chloe, was sprawled on the living room sofa, asking the man behind her to press harder on her back. The scene was more than intimate. I frowned. “Keep some distance. This is our home.” Chloe glanced back, her expression pure contempt. “God, you’re so immature. It’s sports therapy! We all used to do this on the team. It’s team bonding.” Team bonding. Sure. I didn’t argue. Instead, I looked down at my phone and texted my childhood friend, Alice. “Usual place tonight. New ergonomics study. Requires a partner. Very…hands-on.” Her reply came in seconds. “No problem.” If my wife wanted “therapy,” it was only fair that I got some professional consultation of my own. A true exchange of knowledge. Julian’s POV It was 2 AM, and the bedroom was empty. Chloe had posted online about a team seminar, saying she wouldn’t be home all night. I scrolled through my TikTok feed without expression. The algorithm knew me well. The third video showed Jax’s late-night training session. The background was dim. In it, Chloe was perched on Jax’s shoulders, her thighs clamped around his neck as he performed weighted squats, her body moving with his. Sweat dripped from her chin onto his bare collarbone. Their laughter was wild and unrestrained. The comments section was filled with praise. “Perfect synergy!” “Now that’s true sportsmanship!” I used to feel suffocated, driven to madness, seeing such physically intertwined scenes, demanding to know why she behaved that way. But now, watching the two figures on screen, I only felt like I was looking at two frozen cuts of pork rubbing against each other. I tapped ‘like’ and left a comment. “Excellent core stability. Consider adding resistance.” At eight in the morning, Chloe came home smelling of massage oil. She was wearing an oversized men’s training shirt, the collar gaping open-clearly with nothing underneath. “My clothes were soaked, so I borrowed Jax’s.” She explained it as if it were the most natural thing, then picked up my cup and took a sip. “The seminar was exhausting. Everyone was wiped out-too tired to even talk. Don’t overthink it.” Too tired to talk, but not too tired for weighted squats? I stared at the dark red mark on her neck. Chloe seemed to notice and tugged her collar higher. “Jax has strong hands. It’s just from the lactic acid release.” I didn’t call her out. I just nodded, my voice even. “Then his technique must be very professional.” Jax was the former captain of the sports team. After retiring, he’d opened the biggest combat gym in New York. He was Chloe’s idol, and the unofficial leader of their whole retired-athlete circle. Once, at a team dinner, I watched him reach right into her shirt to adjust her sports bra strap-in front of everyone. His reason was perfectly pure. “The strap’s sitting wrong. It’ll chafe your trapezius and kill your power output.” I slammed my hand on the table back then. But Chloe erupted in anger, smashing the wine glass in her hand. “Jax has been looking out for me for over a decade! He does that to protect my athletic career! Why are you so filthy-minded?” The teammates around us burst into laughter, their eyes full of mockery. “Are you crazy from all that studying? We athletes aren’t so formal.” “Exactly, if Jax hadn’t helped her loosen her muscles back then, she would have lost that gold medal long ago.” In that circle, they had their own closed-loop logic. If anyone questioned their physical contact, they would accuse them of desecrating the spirit of sportsmanship.
Julian’s POV At breakfast, I watched Chloe stuff an entire box of imported high-protein energy bars into her sports backpack. I’d bought them to keep my energy up during long work nights; she hadn’t asked. She hummed a tune, then casually tossed a bottle of men’s antiperspirant into her bag. It wasn’t the brand we kept at home; it was the cologne-scented one Jax frequently used in his videos. Bringing things from home out, and bringing outside scents in. Chloe leaned over and casually brushed my face. “Honey, the team’s busy these next few days. You’ll have to figure out dinner yourself.” I recoiled from her touch. “Busy with what? Busy with weighted squats?” Her face stiffened. “Who are you being sarcastic to? That was recovery training! Jax was just helping me get back in shape!” Then she forced a smile. “Oh, don’t be mad, sweetie. To make it up to you, I’ve got something planned for this weekend.” She pressed on my shoulder, her technique practiced. “Darling, how about we go night fishing at ‘Stillwater Lake’ this weekend? Haven’t you always wanted to go camping?” My eyes flickered. She always hated mosquito bites. “I’ve already borrowed all the gear from Jax, the most professional outdoor tent. I promise I’ll stay up with you all night this time.” She didn’t even know I had a full set of custom fishing gear, no need to borrow. Chloe finished speaking and rushed out the door. “I’m going to pick up the tent.” The moment the door closed, I felt a wave of absurdity. Using her lover’s tent to sleep with her own husband-was this a compensation, or a humiliation? I sat in the living room, looking at the custom fishing gear bag gathering dust in the corner. A cross hung on the bag, which she’d gotten for me during our first year of marriage. Back then, she’d said, “You go fishing, and I’ll read beside you.” Now, she didn’t even know where I fished, yet she wanted to take me to a campsite recommended by Jax. I picked up the cross and tossed it into the trash can. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to Alice. “There might be a show to watch this weekend.” It was Friday evening. I was packing when a video call came in from Mrs. Davis, Chloe’s mother. She had a booming voice. “Julian! I hear Chloe’s going fishing with you? See how much that girl cares! Taking time off her busy team schedule just for you.” I kept my face blank. “Yes. She borrowed Jax’s tent.” “Oh, how thoughtful of him! You two have a wonderful time!” Saturday afternoon. One hour past our agreed time. No call. No text. I sat on the sofa, watching the second hand tick. This kind of waiting was all too familiar. Finally, Chloe texted. “Something urgent came up with the team. We’ll do night fishing another time.” Hours later, I saw Jax’s Instagram update popped up. A nine photo carousel, tagged at Stillwater Lake. In one corner of a photo, Jax sat smoking in my custom fishing chair. It was the one with my name engraved on it. My cherished rod lay beside his feet. I zoomed in with two fingers. Jax was barefoot, his feet resting on the chair’s leather armrest. I oiled that chair meticulously after every trip. Now it was caked in mud and reeked of foot odor. The caption read: “Good chair. Super comfy. Thanks, man.” At 2 AM, Chloe finally came home. She was carrying my fishing gear. The bag was spattered with mud.
Julian’s POV “Why was Jax sitting in my chair? Using my rod?” Chloe flinched for a moment, then retorted self-righteously. “Oh, Jax said he hasn’t used high-end gear like that before, so he wanted to test its performance first, in case you found it awkward to use.” “Testing the chair? Testing if it could hold two people?” “Can’t you keep your mouth clean?! He was helping you break in your equipment! Do you know how expensive Jax’s appearance fees are? You’re ungrateful for him testing it out for free!” When we first got married, she would ask before even using my cup to drink water. Now she shared my personal belongings with another man and acted like it was a favor. In her eyes, Jax’s use was a privilege, my discomfort was sacrilege. “It’s dirty. Just throw it away.” I turned and walked towards my study. There was a square indentation on the sofa in the study, as if someone had sat there heavily. The paperweight on the desk was askew. I remembered Chloe saying Jax had come over last time to help move things and had gone into the study. Even my last sanctuary was defiled. I put on medical latex gloves to pack my luggage, carefully wiping every item I intended to take with alcohol spray. Chloe leaned against the doorframe. “Why are you acting like you’re defusing a bomb? Where are you going?” “My father needs surgery; I’m heading back to Manhattan for a bit.” “Oh? Is it serious?” She made a pretense of concern. “Do you want me to ask the team doctor to take a look? Or should I have Jax drive you?” “No thanks. Jax’s car has stiff suspension; it’s not suitable for passengers. It’s more suited for transporting livestock.” Chloe muttered. “Fine, don’t go then. Why say such disgusting things?” She turned and went back to the bedroom to catch up on sleep, not at all concerned about my father’s condition, only worried about not having breakfast made for her. My ride-share arrived. I stood by the curb with my suitcase, glancing back at our apartment window. The curtains were drawn, like a sealed-off burrow. The car started, and New York City’s iconic sports stadium flashed past the window. I thought I came to build civilization, but I almost became an animal myself. I pulled down the sunshade and put on my noise-canceling headphones. Manhattan City, hospital. My father was reading, and my mother was peeling an apple. No sweat, no crude jokes, just the smell of disinfectant and books. In the hallway, I ran into one of Jax’s distant relatives. “Well, well, not in New York with your wife? I saw Jax’s Ins; Chloe’s been training hard lately, staying at the club until midnight every day.” “Is that so? Good for her.” “Jax really has pull. Chloe doesn’t listen to anyone but him.” My phone vibrated. It was a voice message from Chloe. The background was noisy, filled with clinking glasses. “Drink! Drink more!” She didn’t ask if my father’s surgery was successful. Instead, she asked when I’d be back, because she hadn’t had breakfast for days.
Julian’s POV A few days later, my father’s condition was stable, and I had to return to New York to gather evidence for a divorce. The moment I landed and turned on my phone, Chloe’s message popped up. “Honey, Jax and I are here to pick you up! Surprise!” Before, she’d brought people to hold up banners, humiliating me. This time, it was likely another one of Jax’s stunts. I adjusted my suit and tie, taking a deep breath. A giant, mud-splattered modified SUV pulled up to the curb. Jax, in a tight-fitting tank top, his tattooed arms exposed, held the steering wheel with one hand. Chloe sat in the passenger seat, waving, her seat reclined low, almost lying down. “Just toss the suitcase in the back. Don’t scratch the leather in the back seat.” Jax shouted. I opened the passenger door, but Chloe didn’t move. “You sit in the back. The view’s better up front, and I’m helping Jax watch the road.” I opened the back door, but couldn’t bring myself to sit. A suffocating wave of heat and foot odor hit me. The back seat was piled with scattered protective gear, empty Red Bull cans, and a sweaty sock. Was this meant for people? I cleared a spot to sit, my fingers brushing against the sticky trash. It was disgusting. Jax looked at me in the rearview mirror. “Sorry, car’s a bit messy. We athletes aren’t as particular as you bookworms.” Jax connected to the car’s Bluetooth and dialed a group video call. Several large faces appeared on the screen. “Jax! Did you pick up Chloe’s cultured husband?” “Got him! Professor Julian’s squished in the back seat!” Chloe leaned in. “Oh, stop teasing, guys. My husband’s tired.” The group on screen openly commented and ridiculed. “Tsk, low blood sugar. Chloe, get me an energy gel.” Chloe skillfully tore open a viscous sports energy gel packet and directly offered it to Jax’s mouth. Her fingers brushed Jax’s lips. Jax sucked on the gel packet, looking at me provocatively through the rearview mirror. “Thanks. Chloe’s feeding makes this stuff taste even sweeter.” Chloe casually pulled out a tissue and wiped the gel that had spilled from his mouth. She didn’t throw the tissue away. Instead, she naturally tucked it into the side pocket of Jax’s pants, on his outer thigh. Jax’s thigh muscle tensed for a moment, then relaxed. As the car passed the university hospital intersection, I asked him to stop. Jax scoffed. “What? Can’t handle the SUV? Getting car sick?” “To pick up my attending physician.” Jax didn’t slow down. He stomped on the gas, and the car jerked forward violently. My head slammed against the window. Chloe laughed. “Oh, Jax, slow down! Don’t shake the professor to pieces.” I touched the swelling lump on my forehead, my voice calm. “Pull over. Now. Or I’m calling the cops for an illegal ride.” Jax swore under his breath, yanked the wheel, and stomped on the brake.
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