It’s 11 PM, and my wife still hasn’t come home. I call her, and she mumbles something about a company party, saying she can’t get away. I don’t call her out on it. I silently watch as my wife of 5 years, whom I’ve known for 9, enters a bar arm-in-arm with another man. “I think it’ll be a few more hours. Don’t wait up for me, go to bed,” she says hurriedly before hanging up. Tonight marks the 11th time this month she’s come home late. It’s also the last chance I’m giving her. At 4 AM, Claire finally returns. For the first time, she rushes straight to the bathroom to shower. The clothes she casually tossed on the couch are missing the stockings she wore when she left. I let out a bitter laugh, grab her clothes, and throw them in the washing machine before preparing some hangover pills for her. “Jack, you’re the best!” Claire suddenly hugs me from behind. Her voice is still sweet and melodious: “You’re up so late and even prepared hangover pills for me. You’re going to spoil me!” I’m not as enthusiastic as I used to be and coldly push her away. “Just take the pills.” “Your stomach isn’t good. If you drink without taking hangover pills, you won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Claire smiles and, like an obedient kitten, leans on the table to drink some water. She rambles on, “Work’s been so busy lately. If it’s not overtime, it’s company events. I probably won’t even get a break this weekend. It’s exhausting…” I remember she said the same thing last week. Worried about her irregular meals, I went to bring her lunch, only to discover she had never worked overtime. Her empty desk had only a photo frame with a picture of her and Zack. Her colleague said she hadn’t changed it in years. “If you’re that tired, just be honest about it.” “Huh? Honest about what?” Claire’s watery eyes suddenly widen. “About you and Zack. Isn’t it exhausting to lie every day? Drinking until this late and still having to come up with excuses for me seems unnecessary.” I point to the pills, telling Claire to remember where they’re kept so she can find them herself next time she drinks. “Jack, stop it!” “What are you doing? Are you leaving me?” Claire grabs my arm and hugs it, her eyes turning red. Years of marriage make me hold back from lashing out: “I can’t keep a woman whose heart I couldn’t warm in 9 years.” “What nonsense are you talking about? I’m not that kind of woman!” Claire lets go of my hand and glares at me angrily: “Haven’t I explained it to you? Zack and I are just friends. He just came back from abroad and doesn’t have a place to stay or a job yet, so I’ve only met him a few times to help him out.” “Can’t you act like a man? Stop being so jealous for no reason. It’s really unattractive!” She frowns, looking disgusted. The last time I caught her lying about meeting Zack, she gave a similar excuse. But if they’re just friends, why does she keep lying over and over? Why does she come home later and later? I let out a bitter laugh, unable to hold back anymore. “Then let’s get divorced. Go find your ‘attractive’ Zack!” Her childhood sweetheart, whom she hasn’t seen in years, is nothing but a deadbeat who lives off his parents and spends his days and nights in bars and clubs. Yet somehow, she’s still drawn to him. “Divorce?” “Jack, stop acting like a jealous woman! Just because I came home a bit late, you’re talking about divorce? This will only make me hate you!” Claire grabs the water glass and smashes it on the ground. “I’m your wife, not your pet. You don’t get to control who I hang out with!” “Instead of watching me like a hawk every day, why don’t you focus on improving yourself?” After shouting, Claire storms into the guest room and locks the door. The heart I thought couldn’t hurt anymore suddenly aches again. She has a weak stomach, so I’ve cooked for her every day for 9 years. She has a princess complex, so I never forget to give her gifts on every holiday. Whatever she wants, I work myself to the bone to get it for her. But even so, I can’t replace her childhood sweetheart’s photo on her desk. “Sigh… Let it be.” I take a deep breath and start packing my bags. “Jack, it’s been so long. Why haven’t you come to comfort me yet?” “In the past, no matter how angry I got, you’d never leave me alone for more than 10 minutes.” “Do you really not want me anymore?” Looking at the messages Claire sent, I can imagine her tear-stained, pitiful face. I think back to last month when she lied about working overtime on a weekend. I saw her cuddling with Zack in a 24-hour bar, intimately embracing. At that moment, I seemed to go crazy and rushed over, grabbing Zack’s collar and demanding to know who he was. Claire panicked and pushed me away, firmly shielding Zack. “He’s my good friend! If there’s anything to discuss, let’s do it at home. Don’t make a scene and embarrass Zack here!” Her determination to protect Zack was just like how I used to protect her. Afterwards, she left with Zack, abandoning me, her husband, on the spot, like a joke watching his love walk away hand in hand with another man. That time, I first thought about divorce. But as soon as I brought it up, Claire locked herself in the guest room, crying and wailing. She said I was the one she loved most, and she only hid her meeting with an old friend because she didn’t want me to be angry. She said she had some drinks and her stomach hurt badly. After 9 years of love, my heart instantly crumbled at her tears. So I believed her one last time. But… There won’t be a second time. “Jack, you know I’m not asleep. Why aren’t you coming to comfort me?” “I really haven’t done anything to betray you with Zack. I won’t hide it from you when I meet him in the future, so you won’t be suspicious anymore.” “My stomach hurts again. Can you bring me another hangover pill?” When Claire came to me with teary eyes, I was writing her a note. It had recipes for her favorite foods. The dates of her menstrual cycle. The location of her stomach medicine and the dosage for each time… She never paid attention to these trivial life details, used to being pampered and cared for by me. “Didn’t I already tell you where the medicine is?” I handed her the note I’d written: “From now on… you’ll have to learn to take care of yourself.” Claire froze, not reaching out to take the note. I simply placed it on the table, stood up, and grabbed my suitcase to leave. Only then did she react, gently pulling at me, her red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears: “You even packed your bags? Do you really not want me anymore? Are you really divorcing me?” Her tears fell. In the past, when she cried like this, I would inevitably soften. But this time, I just calmly said: “Yes, Claire. I gave you chances. But now, I’ve had enough.” With that, I pushed her hand away without a hint of lingering attachment. “Enough, Jack! How many times do I have to tell you? Zack is my best friend. I haven’t betrayed you or done anything inappropriate!” Claire suddenly shouted out of control: “Yes, I’ve been closer to him, and we did have a relationship in the past, but that’s all in the past.” “If I really couldn’t let him go, why wouldn’t I just divorce you and be with Zack?” As she spoke, she angrily pushed me. The broken glass shards from earlier hadn’t been cleaned up, and I stepped on them, unable to react in time. They pierced through my shoe and deeply into the sole of my foot. Blood slowly seeped out, like a mirror reflecting my tall but thin figure. For these 9 years, I’ve treated Claire as the most important thing in my life, working myself to the bone to give her a better life, and taking on all the housework after getting off work. Without realizing it, my back had become slightly hunched from exhaustion. “I guess it’s because you’re used to being taken care of by me, treating me like a housekeeper…” Other than that, I couldn’t think of a second reason. “No, Jack, that’s not it.” “I’m with you because I love you. I can’t leave you…” Claire’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke, crouching down to examine the wound on the sole of my foot. There seemed to be a hint of concern in her eyes. “Jack, I’ll go get the first aid kit and bandage it for you.” Claire stood up and ran to the living room, but just as she opened the TV cabinet, her phone rang. She immediately forgot about my injury and ran to the bathroom to answer. The voice on the other end was loud, and I could tell it was a drunk Zack. “Do you have any money left, Claire? I couldn’t sleep because I missed you so much, so I went to the bar for a few drinks. But I accidentally drank too much and don’t have enough money…” As soon as Zack finished speaking, Claire rushed out of the bathroom, her eyes full of urgency as she ran to the entrance to change her shoes. Opening the door, she remembered me and gave me a casual glance. “Jack, can you bandage it yourself? I have an urgent matter to attend to, something very important.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Go ahead, remember to drink some warm milk when you come back. You’ve been drinking and haven’t slept all night, your stomach will—” She didn’t even have the patience to listen to me finish and hurried off to Zack. It was clear who was more important in her heart. The blood on the sole of my foot spread again, forming the shape of a blood flower. As if mourning our completely dead marriage. Goodbye, Claire. I pushed my suitcase, waved goodbye to the home we’d lived in for 5 years, and left without any regrets.
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