The trash I asked Arthur to take out three days ago was still hanging on the kitchen door handle. It reeked, and flies were buzzing around it. I knew right then, we needed a divorce. That evening, I slid the drafted divorce agreement across the desk to him. He looked up from his computer, his gaze steady, as if he could see right through me. “The day before yesterday, I was helping Chloe fix her data models. She’s struggling with the basics, and I’m the only one she can turn to for help.” “Yesterday, she was followed while walking home alone, and she called me crying, begging me to give her a ride just this once.” “Today, her presentation had a massive error, and she only had three hours before the deadline. She’s on my team; I couldn’t just leave her hanging.” “I know you’ve always been bothered by her. I can show you my phone and the office security footage to prove there’s nothing going on between us.” “As for that bag of trash, I genuinely just forgot. I’ve explained everything. If you still want a divorce after this, then I will cooperate.” I looked at him calmly. Over the past three days, he had done an awful lot for Chloe. He, who always kept a strict sleep schedule, had even stayed up late three nights in a row for her. Yet, he “forgot” three separate times to simply grab a bag of trash on his way out the door in the morning. I nodded. “Let’s just get the divorce.” Chapter 1 1 I waited at the county clerk’s office until the staff went home for the day. Arthur never showed up. When he finally got home, it was already 11:00 PM. Seeing me sitting on the couch, he didn’t say a word and walked straight to the kitchen to pour a glass of water. I spoke up. “I called you thirteen times. You didn’t answer.” He paused mid-sip, pulled out his phone to check, and showed absolutely no emotion. “I turned my phone off for a meeting today and forgot to turn it back on. What’s up?” His tone was incredibly flat, like he was casually remarking on the weather. I knew it. He had forgotten our appointment. Again. He always had a terrible memory when it came to me. In our seven years of marriage, this kind of thing had happened countless times. From the little things, like asking him to bring in the patio cushions before it rained, or asking him to take out the trash on his way downstairs. To the massive things. Like when I was three months pregnant. The ultrasound showed severe complications. The doctor advised terminating the pregnancy for my safety. We scheduled a time to go to the hospital together for the procedure. The surgery came and went, and he still hadn’t arrived. I only found out later. That day was Chloe’s first time taking the lead on a major project, and she was nervous. He promised her he would be there in person to support her and have her back. That was the very first time I truly realized that I carried absolutely zero weight in Arthur’s heart. The realization felt like a dull plastic knife being dragged forcefully across my chest—it hurt, but it wasn’t enough to kill me. I pulled myself out of my thoughts and kindly explained to him: “We had an appointment to file the divorce papers today.” “Tomorrow is Saturday, and they’re closed. I rescheduled us for Monday morning.” Arthur kept his eyes glued to his lit phone screen, never once looking at me. “Fine. See you at the clerk’s office on Monday.” I nodded. Monday came. Arthur and I signed the divorce papers. After the mandatory 30-day waiting period, the judge would sign the final decree. After signing, Arthur kept his head down, his thumbs flying across his phone screen, replying to someone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. On his screen, a contact with a pink anime avatar had just sent him a string of crying emojis. We walked out the doors of the courthouse. Arthur said to me, “I have an emergency at the office. I can’t give you a ride—” I nodded and pointed to the Uber that had already pulled up to the curb. “My ride is here. Go ahead and get back to work.” The Uber was parked right next to his car. I opened the door and got in. I didn’t look back at Arthur standing outside the car. Chapter 2 2 I texted my best friend, Maya, to let her know I was divorcing Arthur. I asked her to keep an eye out for a decent apartment for me. My hometown was in the Midwest, over a thousand miles away from Seattle. I had sold my childhood home years ago to help pay for my dad’s medical bills. The condo I was living in now was bought by Arthur, and the deed was in his name. After the divorce, I had to move out. I was basically homeless. Maya quickly sent me three listings for suitable apartments. Just as I was about to hop on a FaceTime call with her to do virtual tours, a text from Arthur popped up. [Thai Basil Chicken and Mango Sticky Rice.] [Get here early, I have a meeting at 1:30 PM.] I stared at the two messages, and calmly swiped to delete them. Arthur worked insane hours, and he rarely ate on time or ate well. After he collapsed from severe stomach ulcers and was hospitalized a few years ago. I started researching recipes online. From that day on, I cooked and delivered a hot, stomach-friendly meal to his office every single day. He ate whatever I made, rarely complaining. I kept this up for three years, and Arthur’s stomach ulcers never flared up again. Six months ago, he suddenly started requesting specific dishes. I thought he was just getting bored of the usual bland, stomach-soothing meals, so I started putting extra effort into modifying the recipes. Until that one day. I saw the text messages between him and Chloe on his phone. [Hey Arthur, what delicious food did Clara make today?] [Ugh, steamed veggies again? I hate steamed food.] [Arthur, can you tell Clara to stop making steamed stuff next time? I want stir-fry.] [Clara is such a good homemaker. I literally can’t cook to save my life. You’re so lucky, Arthur.] Arthur had replied: [You are completely different from her. Don’t put yourself down like that.] [One person is crushing it in the corporate world, the other stays at home cooking. There is zero comparison.] [A person can’t be completely useless. Staying at home, cooking is the only thing she can actually do.] Seeing those words at the time, I was devastated. So, I confronted Arthur and asked him directly. He was surprised I had read his messages, but he wasn’t angry. He just answered me calmly and casually. “Oh, Chloe has a bad stomach and can’t eat takeout all the time. The food you make happens to be perfect for her, and it’s super nutritious. Why not kill two birds with one stone?” His light, dismissive tone felt like a sledgehammer, violently shattering my warm, devoted heart into a million pieces. I had sweated in the kitchen for hours, constantly studying recipe books in my free time. My meticulously prepared meals, my unwavering devotion. It all just became a casual joke for him to comfort another woman. The truth was, I wasn’t unemployed. I worked as a freelance technical translator in my spare time. The massive stacks of foreign language dictionaries I used for work were sitting right there on the bookshelf. It’s just that he never cared enough to notice. After finalizing a lease on a new apartment, I felt a massive weight lift off my shoulders. Maya said since I was back on the market, she was going to take me out and make me pay for a massive steak dinner. I happily agreed. When Arthur finally called me, I was dozing off on my new couch. “Clara, didn’t you see my texts?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to wake up. “I saw them. What’s up?” The man on the other end of the line suddenly fell silent. A moment later, I heard him say: “I haven’t eaten lunch yet.” “You can order UberEats.” “Didn’t you always hate it when I ate takeout?” His tone was so incredibly confused. I felt a wave of exhaustion, and spoke to him with genuine sincerity. “Cooking for you wasn’t a legal obligation. I did it voluntarily because it broke my heart to see you in pain from your ulcers.” “But Arthur, we signed the divorce papers a week ago.” Chapter 3 3 After Arthur hung up the phone. I went back to my bedroom and slept until it was pitch black outside. When I walked out of my room, I saw Chloe supporting Arthur as they pushed the front door open. The leg of his slacks was torn; he had clearly taken a bad fall. Chloe followed closely behind him, her eyes red, urgently nagging him. “Arthur, slow down! Your leg is still bleeding!” Seeing me, Chloe immediately puffed out her cheeks and started complaining to me. “Clara, you have to talk some sense into Arthur! We went to a client dinner today, and the client wanted me to take a shot of whiskey. Arthur absolutely refused to let me drink it. When we were leaving, the client ‘accidentally’ bumped into him, and he fell down a flight of stairs and scraped his leg.” “Taking one shot wouldn’t have killed me, I can handle my liquor. Why did he have to play the hero?” Chloe said she wanted me to “talk some sense into him,” but the smug, upward tilt of her lips was painfully obvious, and her act of being angry was terribly unconvincing. So I didn’t say a single word. I just nodded and turned back toward my room. I had lived in this condo for five years; I had a lot of things to pack up and organize. From the living room, I could periodically hear Chloe’s laughter. A little while later, there was a knock on my door. I got up and opened it. Arthur was leaning against the doorframe for support, asking me: “Where is the first-aid kit?” He pulled up his pant leg, showing me the bloody scrape on his shin. I glanced at it, then looked away, my tone laced with genuine confusion. “The first-aid kit? Didn’t you take it to Chloe’s apartment?” Three months ago, Chloe bought an electric scooter to commute to work. On her very first day riding it, she crashed and scraped herself up. The moment Arthur got the phone call, he abandoned me on my birthday and rushed out to find her. Later that same week, I accidentally burned my hand while cooking. I couldn’t find the first-aid kit, so I called Arthur. Chloe answered his phone. “The first-aid kit?” “Hey Clara, I crashed my scooter, so Arthur brought the first-aid kit over to my place. Can you just tough it out for a bit? I’ll have Arthur bring it back to you tonight.” Arthur’s usually stoic face finally showed a flicker of emotion. He had clearly just remembered. “I forgot.” I smiled, nodding in total agreement. “You do have a terrible memory.” On the day Chloe answered that phone call… I was so furious that when Arthur got home, I confronted him. I asked him why he gave our household necessities to another woman. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye. His gaze remained fixed on his laptop screen, typing away as he spoke. “It’s just a first-aid kit.” “It sits in the house all year and nobody uses it. I gave it to her, so what?” But that first-aid kit… every single month, I meticulously checked the expiration dates on all the medications and restocked it with new supplies. Every single item inside was carefully curated by me, representing my desire to protect this household. He casually handed it over to someone else. Just like every meal I poured my heart into making… with a casual wave of his hand, it became someone else’s dinner. I reminded him: “You can order medical supplies on DoorDash now. If there’s nothing else, I have to get back to packing.” With that, I shut the door, completely ignoring the two people standing outside. Arthur stared blankly at the tightly closed door. His heart suddenly felt a little empty. Chapter 4 4 The days passed one by one. I slowly shipped the boxes I packed back to my hometown. The condo I had lived in for five years was gradually becoming empty. It was like the vessel that held all my memories was being slowly drained dry. I thought the last few weeks before the divorce was finalized would pass by quietly. But Arthur suddenly changed. He became oddly domesticated. The man who used to be obsessed with working late suddenly started coming home exactly at 5:00 PM. The person who never cared about my needs started buying me breakfast and bringing home late-night snacks. I couldn’t figure out what his angle was, so I finally asked him what he was doing. Arthur was rarely caught off guard, but he hesitated for a long time before answering. “My mom called and said she wanted to have a family dinner. She wants us to come over.” I hesitated for a moment, but eventually agreed. My parents passed away when I was young. After marrying Arthur, I finally got to experience what it felt like to be cared for by elders again. Since we were getting divorced, it was only right to see them one last time to say goodbye. It was drizzling on the day we went to the restaurant. His parents had already ordered, and the table was covered with mostly my favorite dishes. Arthur’s mom used the serving spoons to place a generous piece of braised short rib into my bowl. She smiled and started chatting about how the neighbor’s daughter-in-law just had her second baby. Then, she seamlessly pivoted the conversation to me. “When are you two going to start thinking about having a baby?” “While your dad and I still have the energy to help you babysit.” In the past, I probably would have smiled and openly said we weren’t in a rush. But this time, I didn’t say anything. I kept my head down and quietly ate the piece of meat sitting on top of my rice. The table went completely silent for a good ten seconds. His parents exchanged confused looks. Arthur reached over, grabbed my left hand resting on the table, and said firmly: “Very soon.” His parents’ faces lit up with smiles. I gently pulled my hand out of his grip. Arthur was focused on checking an email on his phone and didn’t seem to notice. After dinner, Arthur’s mom pulled me aside to chat. Arthur’s phone rang several times, but he ignored it. His mom nudged her son with her foot: “It’s so loud. Clara won’t be able to hear me talk.” Arthur glanced at me. “Work emergency. I need to take this.” By the time the table was cleared, Arthur still hadn’t returned. I tried calling him, but he didn’t answer. His parents tried calling him, and still, no response. Staring out at the pouring rain, my mind suddenly flashed back to a specific day. I was walking past Arthur’s office building when a massive torrential downpour started. There were no Ubers available on the app. I waited until exactly 5:00 PM, when Arthur got off work, and called him. The moment the call connected. I saw a familiar car parked just down the street. I saw Arthur in the driver’s seat, and Chloe sitting in the passenger seat. Arthur asked me what was wrong. I told him it was pouring rain, and asked if he could come pick me up since I wasn’t far away. He replied: “Just wait for an Uber. I’m stuck at the office working overtime.” Right after he said that, the girl next to him reached over and offered him a potato chip. He covered the phone, turned his head slightly as if to decline, but eventually gave in and ate it. He lied so smoothly, so naturally, that for a second I actually thought I had identified the wrong car. I spent dozens of sleepless nights overthinking that day. Eventually, I figured it out. He didn’t love me, so he didn’t care. Just like how he didn’t like potato chips, but he wouldn’t refuse when she brought one to his lips. Just like how he didn’t like eating leftovers, and wouldn’t touch a single bite of the noodles I made for him if they got cold. The rain finally stopped. I called an Uber and took his parents home. In the middle of the night. I heard the sound of Arthur coming home. He was talking loudly on the phone. Through the thin drywall, I clearly heard him let out an exasperated sigh and say, “Chloe.” When I woke up the next morning. My phone had over a dozen missed calls from Chloe. There were also unread text messages from her. [Clara, Arthur and I haven’t crossed any lines! Please tell him not to transfer me to another department!] [He said you misunderstood and want to divorce him. I swear I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I’ll keep my distance from now on, just please don’t let him fire me!] I stared blankly at those two messages. I didn’t reply, just placed my phone face down on the desk. I started packing the last few pieces of clothing I had left in the guest room. Arthur pushed the door open, his tone frantic and urgent. “Clara, what exactly did you say to Chloe?” “She said she was going to explain everything to you, but now she’s disappeared! I can’t reach her anywhere!” “What did you say to her?!” His chest was heaving heavily, and he glared at me unblinkingly. He was usually so reserved and collected; he rarely had such intense emotional outbursts. And yet, he was losing his mind over another woman. I pulled up the chat with Chloe and held the phone up to Arthur’s face. “I have no idea what happened between you two last night to drag me into this.” “When she sent these messages, I was asleep. And frankly, I don’t feel any obligation to reply to her.” Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but his phone started ringing. Seeing the caller ID, his frantic expression instantly morphed into relief, and then back to worry. “Come back first. We can talk about everything else later.” “Do you really want your parents to force you into a miserable marriage?! Come back!” “Then come stay at my place!” “It’s a three-bedroom apartment. It’s just me and Clara here.” As he said that, he shot a look at me and put the phone on speaker, holding it out to me. Chloe’s tearful, choked-up voice blared loudly through the speaker. “Clara, I’m so sorry, I know this is a huge inconvenience.” “I ended my lease because I was planning to move back to my hometown, but Arthur insisted I come back. I can’t find an apartment on such short notice. Can I please crash with you guys for a little bit?” “I swear, the second I find a place, I’ll move out. Please.” Meeting Arthur’s heavily suggestive gaze, I felt my fingertips go cold, and then I just wanted to laugh. “Sure. Welcome to our home.” On the other end of the line, Chloe cheered with joy. Arthur meticulously gave Chloe instructions. “Wait for me at the airport. I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and turned to me. “I’m going to pick Chloe up and come right back. Could you set up the guest room for her?” I reminded him: “Arthur, can’t Chloe just take an Uber? There’s an appointment we need to go to together.” Arthur frowned deeply. “I already promised her. I can’t just go back on my word.” “It’s only a three-hour round trip. Whatever it is, it can wait until I get back.” “Right.” “I’m leaving then.” He hurried out the door. He didn’t even notice the small duffel bag sitting right next to me. I waited for Arthur for three hours. He never came back. I scrolled through my phone and saw an Instagram post Chloe had made ten minutes ago. [I was so depressed today, but Arthur insisted on taking me to the amusement park! What girl can say no to a theme park? I know I can’t! ~] I ‘liked’ her post. I stood up. I grabbed the duffel bag containing the last set of clothes I owned. And I walked out of the condo I had lived in for five years. After leaving the county clerk’s office, I sent a photo of the finalized divorce decree to Arthur, and headed straight to the airport. Seven hours later, my flight landed in my hometown. I got into my buddy Maya’s car, who had been waiting for me at the arrivals curb. While listening to her ramble on about all the new developments in our hometown, I turned on my phone. Messages flooded my screen like an avalanche.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “570851”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel
Leave a Reply