Chapter 2

Nydia didn't beat around the bush. She asked if I wanted to get married.

I was over the moon. I didn't even stop to wonder why someone hung up on another guy would suddenly rush into marriage. I just figured her family was pressuring her.

So I said yes. No hesitation, no questions. Whatever she wanted, I was totally fine with it.

It wasn't until after we got married that I learned the truth.

There was no pressure from her family. It was because her crush—Jefferson—had gotten married.

Jefferson was her best friend's uncle. She'd liked him for years but never said a word.

He had no clue. After college, he married his girlfriend of three years.

Nydia married me to get over him.

That truth hit me hard. But the woman I'd dreamed about was finally mine.

I told myself she just needed time. That one day, she'd love me back.

But after four years, she was still distant.

I wasn't made of stone. I bled, I broke, and I felt everything. Her coldness slowly drained everything out of me.

Then, two weeks ago, I found thousands of photos of Jefferson on her computer.

From when he was ten to twenty-five, she'd saved every picture of him she could find.

Maybe it was her way of remembering how it felt to fall in love for the first time. I told myself that. I tried to be understanding.

But then why did she keep updating those pictures? Why were there even fake wedding photos of the two of them?

She had photoshopped Jefferson in and erased me like I never existed.

That hit me like a slap to the face.

And I could not just let stuff like that slide.

I thought back, and it made sense. Two weeks ago, she came home drunk. Her cold eyes were lit up, like she was finally happy.

Since then, she'd barely been home, always saying she had night shifts.

But there weren't that many night shifts. She was helping Jefferson with his divorce.

That was when I made up my mind. I was done. I was getting a divorce.

I calmly brought up divorce, but Nydia shut it down.

She said I was being paranoid. She said I didn't trust her, even after four years together.

I didn't argue, and I never mentioned it again. She brushed it off like nothing happened, and we went back to living like strangers under the same roof.

But I started preparing behind her back.

At home, I saw our wedding pictures on the table and hanging on the wall. I threw them all out. They felt like a bad joke now.

That night, Nydia didn't come home. I spent it dividing up our stuff.

The next morning, she came back looking wiped out. She noticed the missing pictures right away.

"Where are the wedding photos?" she asked, annoyed.

I looked up from my computer. "One of them fell and broke, so for safety, I packed the rest away."

She didn't push it. "I've got night shifts this week. Don't wait up."

I grunted and went back to my computer. She left breakfast next to me and headed to the bedroom.

The smell of yogurt hit me. I frowned.

I hate yogurt. I'd never eaten it for breakfast. After all these years, she still didn't know that.

Back then, I would've been happy she brought me breakfast. I would've told myself she cared—she just didn't know how to show it.

But now? I just threw it in the trash.

Nydia came out and sat beside me, gently touching my back. "Let's just keep things the way they are. This is fine, right? Don't overthink it."

She leaned in, but I pulled away and shot her a cold look.

Usually, I was the one trying. But that morning, she was the one acting all sweet. It's just not like her at all.

Nydia froze for a moment, clearly taken aback by my rejection.