1 As I signed the kidney transplant cancellation form, Luke’s face registered pure shock. “Are you out of your mind? You love Krista to death, and you are the only match. Now you are backing out?” I did not even look up. My voice was eerily calm. “Because of a glass of water.” Krista had severe germaphobia. In our house, she absolutely refused to share anything with me. Even a glass I had just touched with my lips was untouchable to her. Until the day I saw a video on the social media account of a college intern working under her. In the video, the kid held up his half-empty energy drink and brought it to her lips. Krista naturally leaned in and took a sip from his hand. She frowned slightly, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Way too sweet. Watch out for your teeth.” Her voice in the recording was unbelievably soft. That night, I sat alone in the pitch-black living room, watching that ten-second clip hundreds of times. The glare of the screen made my eyes burn. When Krista woke up the next morning, I poured a glass of water, took a sip right in front of her, and handed it over. “Take a sip.” She stared at me like I was a complete lunatic. “Rick, are you sick in the head? I never touch anything someone else has drank out of.” Someone else. Married for seven years, and in her eyes, I was just someone else. I forcibly pulled my thoughts out of the memories, gripped the pen, and signed my name at the bottom of the waiver. I turned to look out the window. It was the peak of summer. The asphalt radiated waves of heat under the blazing sun, and the cicadas in the trees were deafening. Krista, and that glass of water. Suddenly, I felt entirely exhausted. I did not want to hold on anymore. Right as I stepped through the automatic glass doors of the hospital, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Krista. [Grab some pastries from the deli in the South District. Jace is coming over for dinner.] [He loves barbecue ribs, get the center cut. Oh, and make sure there is no celery or eggplant, he refuses to touch them.] I had been getting my blood drawn repeatedly over the past few days for the transplant prep. I was so dizzy I had to lean against the cold brick wall of the hospital to catch my breath. Luke grabbed my shoulder to steady me, and his eyes accidentally caught the screen of my phone. He instantly blew up. “Is this woman out of her damn mind? She memorized some outsider’s dietary restrictions like she is quoting the Bible, but what about you?” “Last week she had a sudden whim to cook you dinner and stuffed the whole thing with mushrooms! Does she not know you are deathly allergic to that crap? You went into anaphylactic shock right on the floor. If I had not stopped by to see you, you would be in the morgue right now!” My chest tightened as if an invisible hand was crushing my heart. A bitter sting pricked the back of my eyes. When we first got together, Krista still had this clumsy sweetness about her. She would write down my birthday, my favorite things, and the foods that could kill me in her phone notes. Whenever I felt down, she would magically appear with my favorite dessert. Every anniversary, her surprises were perfect. But now, those anniversaries were blank pages. She no longer had the patience for surprises, and she had completely forgotten the allergen that nearly took my life. I finally had to admit that the burning vows from nine years ago had completely rotted away. Every memory had turned into a bloody thorn, ripping my heart to shreds. After a long pause, I shoved the phone back into my pocket and looked at my best friend. “Luke, hook me up with a good lawyer. I want a divorce.” I dragged my leaden legs back to the house. The moment I pushed open our familiar oak door, a freezing, chemical blast of disinfectant spray hit me right in the face. Jace was pinching his nose with one hand and holding a spray bottle in the other, raising an arrogant brow at me. “The professor said outside filth is not allowed in the house. You do not mind, do you, old man?” Fighting the sting in my eyes, I slowly opened them and pinned him with a glare. He was wearing the matching linen shirt Krista and I owned. I had just custom-ordered it from a boutique last week. The tiny pine tree on the cuff was something I stayed up late embroidering myself. Now, it hung loosely on his young frame, reeking of a sickening sense of triumph. I suddenly let out a dry laugh. “I honestly had no idea Professor Krista had such poorly raised punks working under her.” Jace’s face instantly went pale. He immediately put on a victimized expression and looked down the hallway. Krista walked out in her slippers, her face as cold as ice. She stepped right in front of Jace, shielding him, and lowered her voice to scold me. “Rick, watch your mouth. Jace was just playing a harmless joke. Do you have to be so bitter?” A joke? I gritted my teeth. I wanted to scream at her. Was sharing a drink a joke? Was him strutting around in my custom clothes a joke? How many more of these shady little “jokes” were hiding between them? But looking at her defensive posture, treating him like someone she needed to protect from me, all the words died in my throat. I did not want to ask a single thing anymore. Without a word, I turned around, slammed the front door shut, changed my shoes, and walked to the dining table. I pulled out a chair and sat down. “Krista, I have something to tell you.” Dating for two years, married for seven. Even if this ship was sinking, I wanted to give us a decent ending. I touched the outline of the transplant cancellation form through my jacket pocket, trying to find the right words. “I went to the hospital today…” “Whatever it is, can it not wait until after dinner?” She cut me off with extreme impatience, her eyebrows tying into a knot. “Rick, I am busy. I do not have time to waste on you.” I froze in my chair, staring at the woman in front of me in pure disbelief. It felt like a handful of dry straw was shoved down my throat, scraping away my voice. Waste time. I said those exact words to her many years ago. Back then, Krista chased me relentlessly. The library, frat parties, the football bleachers, she was everywhere. Out of sheer exhaustion, I rejected the coffee she offered me for the hundredth time. “I really am not looking for a relationship right now. Stop wasting your time on me.” “How is this a waste of time?” Eighteen-year-old Krista smiled, her eyes curving like crescents, filled to the brim with my reflection. “Just breathing the same city air as you, walking down the same streets, feels like a blessing. Even if you are rejecting me right now, just hearing your voice makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world.” My heart pounded like a drum back then, my face burning hot. But now, looking at the freezing face in front of me, I felt a chilling cold seep into my bones. Since when did she consider sparing me a single sentence a waste of her life? “Professor, since your husband did not even buy groceries, let us forget about the ribs.” Jace stepped up with a cheeky grin, placing his hand naturally on the small of Krista’s back to guide her toward the kitchen. “I was craving those mushroom cheese ravioli you made last time anyway!” The frost on Krista’s face melted instantly, a gentle smile appearing on her lips. She tied on her apron and turned to affectionately ruffle the boy’s hair. “Lucky you. I purposely made extra and froze them last time, just for you.” “You are the best, Professor!” They walked past me laughing and chatting, treating me like thin air. I kept my head down, a bitter sneer forming on my lips. So, that dinner that almost sent me to the ER last week was not some romantic whim. What I ate was just the rejected test batch meant for someone else. I took a deep breath, forcing the violent storm of emotions down. Just to keep the last shred of my dignity, I refused to scream and tear her apart in front of this outsider. I refused to look pathetic. Outside the kitchen doors, they ate their steaming ravioli and talked about absolute nonsense. They went from data models to the recent storms, to the ski season in the Alps and autumn in Aspen. The famously strict and cold Professor Krista was a chatterbox in front of Jace, responding to his every word. Inside the living room, I sat in dead silence, feeling my once burning heart freeze solid piece by piece. It was not until the streetlights flickered on outside that Krista pushed open the bedroom door. She casually tossed a brown paper takeout bag onto my nightstand. “You are anemic lately. You need to eat something.” The bag contained clam chowder from my favorite spot. Years ago, before they even offered delivery, Krista would brave the freezing morning wind to stand in line just to get it for me. “What is your problem today? Why were you so aggressive with Jace?” “Aggressive?” I forced a smile and looked straight into her eyes. “He is into you. Do not tell me you are blind enough to miss that.” “You brought him into our private home, let him wear my clothes, and let him spray alcohol in my face. You know damn well mushrooms could kill me, yet you stocked our freezer full of them just for him!” “Shut your mouth!” Krista’s face darkened instantly. Her brows furrowed deeply, and she looked down at me with sheer contempt. “Jace is the most talented student in my entire program! What is wrong with him coming over for a casual meal? Can you stop judging people with your pathetic, narrow mind?” “He has ambition. He has real goals. He is not from the same world as a guy like you who just stays home and has zero career drive.” Her words were like a bucket of ice water poured straight over my head. I stared at her, my muscles trembling uncontrollably. “Krista, you literally got on your knees and begged me to quit my job!” Back then, she cried about how much it hurt to see me work late, complaining we never had time together. She swore she would build her career while I managed the home. Like an idiot, I believed her. Because I loved her, because I trusted her completely, I killed my own career and swallowed my pride to support her ambitions. Now, that was the very weapon she used against me? Krista looked at my red rimmed eyes, fell silent for a moment, and let out an annoyed sigh. “Fine. I was too harsh.” “Your health is bad anyway, stop getting so worked up.” She turned toward the door. “It is pouring outside. I need to drive Jace home. Whatever nonsense you want to talk about, save it for when I get back.” I did not try to stop her. I knew I could not. Right then, my phone lit up. A text from Luke. [The divorce papers are drawn up by the best lawyers in town. Brother, I booked us two first-class tickets to Europe. Come out and get some fresh air.] Without a second of hesitation, my fingers typed a single letter: [K.] I sat on the living room sofa the entire night, waiting for her to come back so we could talk about the divorce. But I called dozens of times, and every single one went straight to voicemail. It was not until seven the next morning that the front door was pushed open. Seeing me on the couch, a flash of undeniable guilt crossed Krista’s eyes. “Rick, did you not sleep at all?” “The rain was brutal last night, and Jace sprained his ankle on the steps. I was too worried, so I took him to the ER and stayed with him for the night.” “Krista…” After staying up all night, my voice sounded like sandpaper. “Taking ten seconds to send a text, is that too hard? Picking up one phone call, is that too hard?” “Listening to me finish a sentence, is it really that damn hard?” “Sorry.” She stood in the entryway, unusually silent for a few seconds. “My phone died last night. Plus, I assumed you were already asleep.” “You probably have not eaten breakfast yet. I will make you something.” She practically fled into the kitchen. After some clattering, she surprisingly whipped up a lavish spread of hot food. Krista was terrible at basic life skills, but she was naturally gifted in the kitchen. I had chronic stomach issues, and a few years ago, she actually read through dozens of nutritional cookbooks just to make me healing meals every day. But right as the last pot of hot soup was done, she unhesitatingly packed all the hot food into a thermal lunchbox. Then she turned around and slid a plate of thick blueberry toast across the counter to me. “Rick, just make do with this for now.” “I have to rush back to the hospital to bring Jace some hot food. Do me a favor and clean up the pots and pans.” The rich purple color on that toast stung my eyes like a needle. She forgot entirely. I absolutely despised blueberries. Looking at her rushing toward the door, a cold, mocking laugh escaped my lips. “You really go above and beyond for this precious student of yours.” “Rick, what exactly are you implying now?” She rarely lost her temper at me like this, narrowing her eyes in warning. “I treat all my students equally. If anyone in my lab got sick today, I would go take care of them!” “Really?” I looked up slowly, meeting her gaze without backing down. “Would you drink after your other students without flinching? Where did your crippling germaphobia go, Krista?” “I have no idea what nonsense you are talking about.” A brief look of being caught flashed across her face. She grabbed the lunchbox and tried to walk past me. I grabbed her wrist tight and shoved yesterday’s medical report right into her palm. “You do not have to understand. But you know how to read.” I scraped the blueberry toast straight into the trash can in front of her. By the time I turned around, the front door was already shut. That paper, the one concerning her very life, was crumpled into a ball and lying at the bottom of the wastebasket by the door. I stood frozen for a long time. It felt like an organ had been violently carved out of my chest, leaving a gaping, freezing hole. But strangely, I could not squeeze out a single tear. Eventually, I walked back to the guest room and quietly started packing my suitcase. Not long after, a courier dropped off the divorce papers Luke had prepared. I skimmed through the asset division. It was perfectly fair. No issues. Now, all I had to do was wait for her to come home, sign on the dotted line, and this absurd marriage would finally be over. At nine o’clock that night, the doorbell rang like a death knell. I ripped the door open. Jace stood there, panting heavily, practically carrying a blackout-drunk Krista in his arms. “At the lab project celebration tonight, the Professor took a bunch of heavy shots to protect me. I did not realize she was such a lightweight, yet she still tried so hard to look out for me.” I pressed my lips into a hard line and instinctively reached out to take my wife. Jace dodged my hands entirely. Walking in like he owned the place, he carried Krista into the master bedroom and laid her down. Then he walked back out, leaning against the doorframe, a venomous, mocking smirk on his face. “Old man, do not blame me for not letting you touch her. I know for a fact she thinks you are dirty.” “She is drunk now, sure, but even when she is sober, she probably gags at the thought of you touching her. Why else would you be married for seven years without a single kid?” He suddenly leaned in, lowering his voice like a snake. “After all, the Professor told me herself. Every time you get close, all she can think about is that night you were pinned down in the dirt by those street girls, having your clothes ripped off.” “She said you make her physically sick.” A deafening ring exploded in my ears. The string that had been pulled taut for nine years finally snapped. Years ago, Krista’s deadbeat dad owed a massive debt to some ruthless loan sharks. To help her pay it off, I sang at an underground bar downtown every single night. One early morning after my shift, I was targeted by a local girl gang. They dragged me into an alley, beat me half to death with baseball bats, and used box cutters to shred my clothes, humiliating me in every way possible. Krista rushed in like a madwoman with an iron pipe, smashing the leader’s head open. Afterward, she held me tightly in her arms, crying so hard she could barely breathe. Her hands were shaking so violently she could not even cup my face. “Rick, this is my fault. I swear to God, I will never let anyone hurt you again!” That was the darkest nightmare of my life at nineteen. That was the scar I had fiercely protected for eight years. And now, Krista had turned my deepest trauma into gossip, a joke to share with her little boy toy! I snapped my head up, my eyes bloodshot. “What the hell did you just say?” “I said, the Professor thinks you are a dirty…” He did not get to finish that word. My fist smashed violently into his jaw, crushing the syllables against his teeth. I threw my entire body weight into that punch. Jace screamed, flying backward like a broken doll. His forehead slammed hard against the edge of the glass coffee table, and blood immediately poured down his brow. He wiped the blood from his mouth, his face turning purple with rage and humiliation. “Screw you! Are you out of your damn mind?!” He lunged at me like a rabid dog. I raised my leg and kicked him square in the stomach, sending him to the floor. I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out the front door like a dead dog. “Get out! Get the hell out of my house right now!” The door slammed shut with a thunderous crash, completely sealing that disgusting piece of trash outside. Drained of every ounce of strength, I slid down the cold door panel to the floor, cold sweat soaking my back. In the dead silence of the house, Krista’s slurred, drunken mumbles drifted from the bedroom. “Rick…” If it were the past, I would have swallowed my exhaustion, brought her a warm towel, wiped her face, and changed her into pajamas. But tonight, I just stood by the bed, staring down at her for a long, long time. Finally, I slid the wedding band off my ring finger. I took hers off the vanity. I threw them both into the pitch-black trash can. Nine years. We were once the college sweethearts everyone envied. Now, we had reached a dead end where just looking at each other caused nausea. I slept in the guest room. The next morning, I was violently yanked out of bed by Krista. She stared down at me, her eyes filled with suffocating disappointment. “Rick, did you put your hands on Jace last night?” The sharp pain in my wrist snapped me fully awake. I forcefully shook her hand off. “What, seeing your precious student bruised up breaks your heart?” “His parents called the cops! The university dean is involved now! You are going to get dressed right this second, go to the campus, and bow your head to apologize!” Krista’s eyes were red with frantic anger. She hurled a jacket right at my face. Rubbing my red wrist, I let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, he has parents? The way he clings to you for everything, I thought he was an orphan.” “Rick!” She pointed a finger right at my nose, her eyes wide with fury at having her boundaries crossed. “How can you say something so venomous? When did you become such an unreasonable monster?” “I do not care what your excuse is, you are coming to apologize!” She dragged me out to her car like a prisoner and sped all the way to the university’s administration building. In the dean’s office, Jace sat on the couch with his head down, playing the perfect victim. A middle-aged man and woman sat on either side of him, screaming furiously at the department head. “My son is here at an Ivy League institution to do research! Now he is sitting here with a mild concussion! You people better give us an explanation right now!” “Professor!” Seeing Krista walk in, Jace acted like his savior had arrived. He jumped up, pointing at his bruised jaw to tattle. “I was just trying to be a good person and bring you home safely last night, but your husband falsely accused me of coming onto you. He attacked me like a psychopath. My head is killing me…” The moment his mother saw me, she shot up from the couch, her shrill voice piercing my eardrums. “So you are the uneducated piece of trash who put hands on my son! You are going to pay us fifty grand in damages today, or I swear I will see you behind bars!” I cast a dead, cold look at these clowns. I pulled out my phone and opened a screenshot. It was a photo Jace had posted on his stories at 2 AM and deleted seconds later. Unfortunately for him, I caught it. The background was the ER from the night before. Krista was asleep by his hospital bed, and he was leaning in, kissing her cheek. I zoomed in on the photo and shoved the screen right into his parents’ faces. “Sure, I will pay you. But first, I want to ask how you raised your kid.” “What kind of cheap trash secretly hooks up with his married professor while getting his master’s degree?” Jace and his father quickly exchanged a panicked glance. The next second, the middle-aged man charged at me like a raging bull, landing a heavy punch right on my jaw. “You worthless loser who got humiliated by a bunch of street girls dare to talk about my son? Too bad they did not just beat you to death in that alleyway!” The room spun violently. I staggered and collapsed, the back of my head cracking hard against the marble floor. The pain was so sharp I could not even scream. It took a long moment for my vision to focus again. I saw several twisted, ugly faces looking down at me. Krista stood nearby. A flash of worry did cross her eyes, but her body remained firmly planted in front of Jace and his father, protecting them. I forced myself up, clenching my fists, ready to rush the man and pay that punch back in full. But a pair of arms locked around my waist from behind. Krista held me back with all her strength. “Rick, calm the hell down! No matter what, you threw the first punch last night!” “Krista, let go of me!” My eyes were bloodshot. The years of suppressed betrayal and rage erupted from my chest like a volcano. Why? Why did everyone think they had the right to weaponize my deepest scars? Why! “Are you blind, Krista? Did you not see him hit me just now?” “Why did you tell them about that night? He used it to mock me to my face, are you deaf?!” My desperate, broken roar echoed down the hallway. College students walking between classes stopped and started peeking through the doors. Clearly feeling embarrassed, Krista pushed me out into the stairwell. “Go home and cool off. I have to take Jace to get a brain scan.” She turned around, shielding Jace as they tried to push through the gathering crowd. Just as we brushed past each other, the older man suddenly turned around, raised his hand, and shoved me hard by the shoulder. I lost my balance and tumbled down the steep staircase. My back slammed against the concrete steps, the impact feeling like it shattered my spine. But Krista merely looked over her shoulder, frowned in annoyance, and quickly looked away. I knew that look all too well. I was an embarrassment to her. A couple of male students finally stepped in and helped me up. I muttered a quiet thanks, gritted my teeth through the pain, and limped straight into Krista’s spacious private office. My phone buzzed. A flight notification popped up: [Boarding in 6 hours.] I reached into my inner jacket pocket, pulled out the signed divorce agreement, and laid it perfectly flat right in the center of her desk. I held up my phone, snapped a picture, and hit send. [I signed it. Krista, let us get a divorce.]
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