1 Ever since I was a kid, I could see people’s second shadows. It was a reflection of the soul. The shadows of deeply devoted lovers would entwine seamlessly, while the shadows of couples on the verge of divorce would slowly drift apart. On the day my parents finalized their divorce, the shadow of the man who married my mother completely consumed hers. On the day my older brother finally walked away from a toxic ex, his shadow severed all ties with hers. And as for me and Sylvia, our shadows were always perfectly and tightly overlapped. I used to count my blessings every single day. I thought I had found the perfect woman. We were childhood sweethearts. Ten years of history. An unbreakable bond. That was, until the afternoon she dropped by my office with my favorite ice cream. Under the blinding afternoon sun, I looked down and noticed a terrifying glitch. Our shadows were slightly misaligned. It felt like a magnifying glass was focusing the scorching sun directly onto my heart. For weeks, I drove myself insane searching for clues, checking her phone, analyzing her schedule. I found absolutely nothing. I was just about to convince myself that I was being paranoid, that my eyes were playing tricks on me. Then came the camping trip. We had gone out of our way to pick up my best friend, Carter, for a weekend in the mountains. When we stepped out of the car, the sunlight hit the pavement. My breath hitched. Right there on the asphalt, Sylvia and Carter’s second shadows were overlapping. The sweltering summer heat could not chase away the ice invading my veins. So this was the root of the sickness. … A few yards away, the two of them were setting up a camping tent together. Whenever their hands accidentally brushed, Sylvia would politely and distantly pull away. That was typical Sylvia. To any guy other than me, she was an iceberg, completely restrained and aloof. Even to Carter. To avoid any misunderstandings, she didn’t even have his phone number saved. If it weren’t for the meteor shower tonight, a once-in-a-lifetime celestial event that happened to be Carter’s birthday wish, Sylvia would never have agreed to a three-person camping trip. Yet, watching them pitch that tent, their unspoken chemistry was so fluid it made my stomach churn with jealousy. “Rowan? Hey, man, what’s wrong? Why are you shivering in this heat? Let me get you to a doctor…” Carter’s voice snapped me back to reality. His eyes were filled with genuine concern. He grabbed my arm, trying to guide me toward the car. He had been like this since we were kids, always looking out for me like an older brother. When we arrived, he absolutely refused to let me lift a finger to help with the tent. But in that moment, his touch felt like crawling maggots. Nausea hit me like a freight train. I violently shoved his hand away. Carter lost his footing. He let out a yelp, stumbling backward and dragging me down to the dirt with him. A sharp pain shot up my leg, and a muffled groan escaped my lips. But when I looked up, the rest of my cry died in my throat. Sylvia had thrown half her body under Carter to break his fall. The raw, unfiltered panic on her face was impossible to fake. And on the ground, her second shadow leaned even deeper into his. It wasn’t until she felt my eyes on her that she jumped up like she had been burned. She rushed over to check on me. “Honey, are you okay? Carter twisted his ankle last week, and I panicked thinking he might have re-injured it. That’s why I checked on him first.” I met her gaze. Her eyes were clear and completely unapologetic. The midday sun beat down on us, making the world spin, but the chill inside me seeped all the way into my bones. Last week, when I heard Carter had twisted his ankle, I was frantic. I wanted to drop everything and take him to the ER. But he brushed me off over the phone, laughing and saying he already had company. I remember the sweet, secretive tone of his voice. I had smiled, thinking my chronically single best friend had finally found a girl. I just never expected that girl to be my wife. “I thought you guys didn’t have each other’s contact info. How did you know he twisted his ankle?” Carter’s face instantly drained of color. Sylvia, however, barely blinked. “I was leaving a client meeting near his office and saw it happen on the sidewalk. I couldn’t exactly leave him stranded.” “He’s your best friend. I couldn’t just walk away.” I didn’t say a word. I just stared at the ground, watching their shadows inch closer together. My ankle throbbed, but it was a dull ache compared to the shredding of my chest. “Can you stand?” I thought she was talking to me. I opened my mouth to answer, only to realize her eyes were locked onto Carter. “I think so. Just landed right on last week’s sprain. It burns a little…” Carter muttered. Sylvia’s voice took on a sharp, scolding edge, but it was dripping with undeniable affection. It was the exact tone she used on me whenever I did something reckless. “Stay put. Let me go to the car and grab the first-aid kit.” She let go of me, jogging to the SUV. She brought back the medical ointment and carefully, meticulously massaged it into Carter’s ankle. Only after she confirmed he was fine did she let out a long breath and turn her attention to me. Under the blazing sun, their entwined shadows looked like a gaping maw ready to swallow me whole. I sat there, numb, letting Sylvia apply the ointment to my leg while my brain frantically scanned the past ten years of memories. When did the cracks start? How could I have been so blind? My head felt like it was going to split open until Sylvia’s voice dragged me back. “Looks fine. Nothing swollen. Rowan, just tough it out for today, okay? The meteor shower is a big deal, and we drove all the way up here. If it still hurts tomorrow, I’ll take you to the clinic.” She didn’t ask for my input like she usually did. With a dismissive “tough it out,” she bulldozed over my pain to pave the way for Carter’s birthday wish. Carter mumbled something about feeling guilty, but his eyes were pleading with me to stay. “It’s settled then,” Sylvia declared. “Otherwise you’ll just keep bugging us to bring you camping. My husband and I barely get a weekend off, and we still have to drag a third wheel along.” “You guys rest up. I’ll finish the tent.” She walked away, her footsteps crunching on the dry grass, but her second shadow twisted unnaturally, desperately clinging to Carter’s. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the pain wash over me. Night fell over the mountains. The meteor shower arrived right on schedule. Sylvia played the perfect, attentive wife. She set up the telescope and adjusted the camera settings to capture the night sky perfectly. At the stroke of midnight, Carter pressed his palms together, whispering into the dark. “I wish for Rowan and me to be brothers for life. Nothing will ever tear us apart.” He sounded so sincere, yet my stomach violently convulsed. I used to think he truly cherished our brotherhood. Now I realized it was just his VIP pass to stay close to my wife. Sylvia also closed her eyes, playing along with the ritual. “I wish for my husband to stay handsome forever. And for us to live happily ever after.” Under the starlight, she looked at me with eyes that seemed to hold the entire Milky Way. But on the dirt floor, her shadow and Carter’s shadow were writhing together, carving a fresh nightmare into my mind. “You guys enjoy the show. I’m not feeling great. I’m going to turn in.” I crawled into the dark tent, curling into a ball. A few minutes later, a blanket of suffocating warmth wrapped around me. “What’s wrong? You seem completely out of it today.” “Nothing. Just the mountain wind. I’m a bit cold.” Usually, I’d be clinging to her like a koala right now. Seeing me turned away, she frowned, gently rolled me over, and pressed the back of her hand against my forehead. “You probably caught a chill. Good thing I packed cold medicine and melatonin. Get some sleep. I made sure to buy the best windproof tent on the market.” She fetched the pills and a bottle of water, watching me swallow them. Then, she began slowly rubbing circles on my back, letting out a soft chuckle. “Look at you, babe. You really can’t survive a single minute without me.” She buried her face in the crook of my neck. But instead of comfort, an icy dread wrapped around my throat, suffocating me like a tightened noose. Ten years together. Married for five. Sylvia had always been fiercely protective and attentive. I never even had to speak for her to know what I was thinking. Just like now. Noting my silence, she let out a heavy sigh. “Is this because I didn’t take you to the hospital right away? Relax. I checked your ankle myself. It’s just a bruise.” She placed her burning palm over my injured ankle. “Don’t tell me you’re getting jealous over Carter?” She let out a low, amused laugh and raised a hand in a mock oath. “Rowan, it’s been a decade. You know you’re the only man in my heart.” In the pale moonlight filtering through the canvas, I stared at the floor. Her second shadow stretched endlessly, slipping straight into the adjacent tent where Carter was sleeping. Tighter. Closer. Bitterness crashed into me wave after wave. Her guilt and her overcompensation were just a byproduct of her deepening bond with him. “It’s fine.” I shifted my weight, putting a few inches of distance between us. “I think I’m coming down with something. Give me some space, I don’t want to get you sick.” Sylvia didn’t say anything else. The medicine kicked in, dragging me into a foggy, restless sleep. My dreams were flooded with their tangled shadows. I woke up drenched in cold sweat. Blindly, I reached out to the space beside me. The sleeping bag was empty and stone cold. My eyes shot open. My heart slammed against my ribs. With trembling fingers, I peeled back the tent zipper just a fraction. A few yards away, bathed in silver starlight, Sylvia and Carter stood shoulder to shoulder. I crept closer, hiding behind a pine tree. Sylvia’s voice was low, almost husky. “Do you like your birthday present?” Carter’s fists were clenched at his sides. His voice shook when he finally spoke. “Do you remember that night we…” “I want your wish to come true. I want both our wishes to come true,” Sylvia interrupted, her voice entirely flat. Carter dropped his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat. She had clearly chosen me, yet my mouth tasted like ash. They were standing two feet apart, but their shadows were practically devouring each other on the grass. I snapped a twig under my boot. Sylvia’s head whipped around. I turned and bolted back to the tent before she could spot me in the dark. A few minutes later, the tent flap opened. A pair of cold lips pressed against my forehead. Soon, the sound of her steady breathing filled the small space. At some point, tears had soaked straight through my pillow. Sylvia kept her promise. As soon as we drove down the mountain the next morning, she insisted we drop by the local clinic. The doctor took one look at Sylvia and chuckled. “Well, look who’s back. Didn’t I say come back in two weeks? And you brought your husband this time?” The doctor adjusted his glasses, completely oblivious. “You rarely see couples this devoted anymore. Last week you were in here every single day with your boyfriend, even bringing him home-cooked meals in those little Tupperware containers…” Both Sylvia and Carter froze, their faces turning a sickening shade of gray. So it wasn’t just a one-time encounter. No wonder Sylvia had been working so much overtime last week, sneaking into bed long after midnight. She was busy playing housewife for my best friend. The funny thing was, Sylvia nearly burned our kitchen down during our first year of marriage and swore she would never touch a stove again. When did she overcome her trauma just to cook for my buddy? “Rowan…” Sylvia reached out, her voice cracking as she tried to spin a lie. I ignored her completely, asking the doctor a few calm questions about my ankle, cutting off whatever excuse was brewing in her throat. Sensing the sudden, suffocating tension in the room, the doctor quickly wrote a prescription and excused himself. Sylvia practically sprinted to the pharmacy counter to get away from us. Leaving just me and Carter in the stark white hallway. “Rowan, please don’t get the wrong idea. You were so swamped with that project last week, and I thought since you were busy…” He frantically pulled out his phone, his hands shaking. “If it bothers you, I’ll delete her number right now. Right in front of you. Don’t listen to that doctor, he’s just confused…” I stared at him. This was the same guy my father had sponsored out of a rundown Appalachian town. The guy who cried tears of gratitude and swore on his life he would always protect his little brother. Growing up, whatever I wanted, Carter would move mountains to get it for me. The limited-edition gaming consoles. The courage to talk to my high school crush. On the day Sylvia and I got married, with my parents already gone, it was Carter who walked me down the aisle. He had solemnly handed my hands over to Sylvia, threatening to break her legs if she ever made me cry. And now, they were plunging the knife into my back together. The concept of the shadows was too insane to explain, but even without it, the sheer weight of their betrayal robbed me of the energy to yell. I glanced at the phone he was shoving in my face, and my heart stopped. Wrapped around his wrist was a woven leather band. A very specific leather band. Sylvia had sent me a picture of it months ago. I had been working eighty-hour weeks while nursing Sylvia back to health after she developed an ulcer from stress. I ended up collapsing from exhaustion and was hospitalized for days. While I was unconscious, Sylvia, a woman who despised religion and believed in nothing but hard logic, flew to a spiritual retreat in Sedona. She hiked miles barefoot to a local shrine to get that exact leather band blessed for my safe recovery. But when I finally woke up, she told me she lost it at the airport on her way back. I spent hours comforting her as she cried over her clumsiness. Today, I realized I was the only one in the room who needed comforting. I stared blankly at his wrist until their overlapping shadows crept across the linoleum floor. “You’re back… Watch Rowan for a second, I need to… I have an errand to run…” The moment Sylvia walked back, Carter looked like he had been handed a pardon from the governor. He threw out a pathetic excuse and bolted toward the exit. Sylvia’s eyes tracked his every step until he disappeared behind the sliding glass doors. “Why is the bracelet you lost on his wrist?” My voice was dead. Sylvia flinched, pulled back from her trance, and sighed heavily as she sat next to me. “It’s just a lucky charm, Rowan. You woke up, you were perfectly fine, so you didn’t need it anymore. He got hurt, so I passed it along. That’s it.” I let out a dry, hollow laugh. “You told me it was lost.” Sylvia pinched the bridge of her nose, her patience wearing thin. “It’s just a piece of string. Stop being so petty. If it bothers you that much, I’ll fly back out and buy you a new one, okay?” “And the meteor shower yesterday? I couldn’t walk, and you still insisted on staying up there…” “Rowan.” A flicker of guilt finally cracked her composed mask. “He is your best friend. Are you really going to be this harsh on the guy who’s had your back for twenty years? What is the point of this?” Harsh. Petty. Carter was gone. Sylvia and I were sitting side by side on the waiting room chairs, yet on the floor, our second shadows were violently tearing themselves apart. I smiled softly. So this was the truth. She may have chosen me on paper, but her soul had already evicted me. I took a deep breath and stood up. “You’re absolutely right. There is no point.” From that day on, a thick, suffocating silence settled over our house. We had an unspoken agreement never to mention Carter’s name. Even though I knew the sports injury ointment in the trunk of her car was steadily running out. I spent my days quietly packing up my life. We kept up appearances well enough, but a few mutual friends started picking up on the cold war. “Rowan, what’s going on? Sylvia’s been completely zoned out at work lately. Did you guys have a fight?” “You two are the golden couple. Whatever it is, just talk it out. Don’t let it fester.” I had made my decision. I was ready to lay all my cards on the table. Then, Sylvia suddenly texted me. “Honey. Eighth anniversary today. I booked our favorite restaurant downtown. I really need to talk to you.” I typed a quick “Okay” and hit send. I sat at the corner booth, waiting. Thirty minutes. An hour. Two hours. Sylvia, a woman who considered being five minutes early a sign of disrespect, was nowhere to be found. My texts went unread. My calls went to voicemail. Above me, the mall’s PA system kept blaring the same urgent warning. “Attention shoppers. A severe hurricane warning has been issued for the area. The storm is making landfall earlier than expected. The mall will be closing immediately. Please evacuate the premises.” The restaurant manager came by with a sympathetic smile, gently asking me to leave. The entire dining room was filled with roses, candlelight, and expensive champagne. The only thing missing was my wife. I walked out into the deserted concourse. The mall lights flickered and died. I hadn’t driven. Outside, the wind was howling like a cornered beast, snapping tree branches in half and throwing debris across the flooded parking lot. The rain felt like needles against my face. I managed to sprint to the awning of a closed convenience store down the block, shivering violently. I have hated the dark and thunderstorms since I was a kid. Panic set in. My knuckles turned white as I dialed Sylvia’s number one last time. This time, the call connected. “Sylvia… where are you?” My voice broke. I sounded pathetic, even to my own ears. “You promised we were going to talk tonight. It’s our anniversary…” “Rowan.” Her voice cut through a wall of background noise. But beneath the static, I heard something else. A man crying. Carter. “Please don’t leave me. I’m terrified… Just this one last time. If you walk out that door, I swear I won’t make it through the night…” Finally, with a heavy sigh of forced pity, Sylvia delivered the final blow. “A massive crisis just hit one of my major projects. I have to stay and fix it tonight. I’m so sorry. Can I order you an Uber?” In a split second, the hurricane outside paled in comparison to the wasteland inside my chest. Every last drop of hope evaporated. I hung up the phone. I sat on the cold concrete step, pulling my knees to my chest. Out of nowhere, my brain supplied a memory. A private burner Finsta account Carter used back in college. The one he used to vent about things he couldn’t say in public. My frozen fingers fumbled with my phone. I typed in the old handle. The grid was entirely different now. It was filled with intimate photos. A woman’s hand resting on a steering wheel. A silhouette on a balcony. A familiar coffee order. I recognized Sylvia in every single pixel. The latest post was a blurry photo of two wine glasses. The caption read: “Just going to be selfish this one last time.” I scrolled down, torturing myself. That time Sylvia told me she was on a business trip to Chicago? She was in a cabin in Vermont with Carter. That time she missed her flight due to a “schedule mix-up”? Carter had begged her to stay another night in his apartment. My hands shook violently as I screenshot every post. I laughed until I choked on a sob, crouching in the dark alleyways of the city. By the end of it, I couldn’t tell if my face was soaked with rain or tears. I buried my face in my arms and waited out the storm. The next morning, the rain finally slowed to a drizzle. I stretched my stiff, freezing limbs and began the agonizing two-mile walk back to our empty house. Sylvia wasn’t home yet. I peeled off my ruined clothes, walked straight into the bedroom, and pulled out my suitcase. One single suitcase. That was all it took to pack up ten years of my life. The divorce papers I had drafted earlier were soaked and ruined from the rain. I printed a fresh stack. I signed my name on the dotted line, placed the pen down, and left the manila folder dead center on the dining table. I walked out the front door and pulled it shut. … “Why the hell did you insist on following me here?” Sylvia rubbed her temples, glaring at Carter as he trailed behind her up the driveway. “I don’t want Rowan to hate us. I want to explain things to him…” Hearing that, Sylvia’s frown softened slightly. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Honey. I’m home.” She took a deep breath, forcing a bright, apologetic smile, but the house was dead silent. She walked into the living room, her eyes scanning the sterile, perfectly clean space. Then, her gaze landed on the dining table. On the thick stack of papers. On my signature. The air vanished from the room. Sylvia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Behind her, on the hardwood floor, the shadow she shared with Carter finally, violently, ripped apart.
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