Chapter 4
The next morning, I got up, washed up, and changed my clothes as usual.
Jeremy sat at the breakfast table reading the newspaper.
Sophie was still in bed.
He didn't look up when he saw me. "Sophie wants fried catfish for dinner. Make it before you leave the house."
His tone was bossy, like he thought I owed him this.
I stood there, staring at his cold profile.
Making fried catfish was such a hassle.
I had to dip the catfish in milk, dredge it in the cornmeal mixture, and fry it.
I'd burned my hands badly learning that dish once, all because he'd said he wanted to eat it.
Now he wanted me to cook it for his other woman.
"Alright," I said.
It would be the last time I agreed to anything he asked.
Jeremy finally glanced up at me. "Don't be late getting back."
Then he grabbed his car keys and left.
I turned and walked into the kitchen.
I picked up the catfish he'd laid out and tossed it into the trash.
After that, I boiled five eggs.
Once they were done, I turned off the stove.
I'd left marks everywhere in the house.
A sticky note on the medicine cabinet read: [Stomach medicines on the second shelf]
A label on the closet showed: [Wash shirts by hand]
A reminder on the fridge read: [Don't drink iced water]
I peeled them all off, tore them into tiny pieces, and flushed them down the toilet.
When I'd wiped away every trace of myself, I stood in the entryway with my suitcase.
The bag was light. Only my papers and a few bottles of painkillers I had to take were inside.
I didn't take any clothes, jewelry, or old memories with me.
I glanced back at the house I'd lived in for years.
This place once held all my dreams and love.
Now there was nothing left but a total mess.
*****
It was 2 PM when I got to the airport.
I checked in, went through security, and headed to the departure lounge to wait for my flight.
Everything went smoothly.
I sat in the waiting hall and took out my phone. I canceled the phone number I'd used for ten years.
And I snapped the SIM card in half and tossed it into the nearby bin.
At last, the world felt quiet and free.
At three in the afternoon, the plane took off.
With the roar of the engine, I watched the city outside the window shrink smaller and smaller.
Goodbye, Jeremy. And goodbye to my ten years of youth.
*****
Jeremy's POV
At 7 PM, Jeremy got back home.
There was no usual smell of home-cooked food in the air. Instead, a faint fishy stench lingered.
He frowned hard and covered his nose and mouth. "Elaine, what are you doing? Why does the house reek like this?"
No one answered. Only empty silence echoed back.
Sophie followed him, fanning the air with her hand. "Jeremy, it smells awful. Like spoiled seafood. Could Elaine have not even made dinner?"
Fuming with anger, Jeremy marched into the kitchen. He spotted the untouched catfish in the trash. It was giving off a rotten stench.
On the dining table, there was nothing but a pot of cold boiled eggs.
"Elaine!" His temper flared up in an instant.
He pulled out his phone and dialed her number, dying to ask if she'd lost her mind.
"We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service." The robotic voice left Jeremy frozen in shock.
He wondered whether the number had really been disconnected or was no longer in service. A chill ran down his spine, hitting him faster than his anger could.
He rushed to the guest room and yanked open the wardrobe door. Most of Elaine's things were gone.
"Running off to throw a fit?" Jeremy's fingers tightened around the closet door almost without thinking.
He stormed into the study and pulled open the drawer. It was empty.
Elaine's passport and driver's license were gone.
Burning with rage, he wanted to sweep everything off the desk to let out his frustration.
As the items clattered to the floor, a thin sheet of paper slid out and drifted down to his feet.
He was about to kick it aside, until the words on it froze him in place.
It was the divorce settlement agreement. Elaine's signature was neatly written on it. Her handwriting was delicate but firm.
"You can't keep throwing tantrums like this." He gritted his teeth and grabbed another crumpled paper beside it, ready to tear them up.
But his movements froze the second he read the words on it.
It was a medical diagnosis report: [Late-stage stomach cancer with multiple metastases.]
Every word hit him like a heavy blow.
Then his phone vibrated.
The screen lit up with a scheduled text from an unknown number. [Jeremy, I've loved you for ten years, and I'm worn out.
[I've heard the snow in Swonica is pure. I want to go there and rest for good.]
Jeremy stared fixedly at the phone screen: stomach cancer; Swonica.
A wave of overwhelming panic made him barely able to stand steady.
He thought back to how she'd been clutching her stomach all these days. Her bloodless face popped into his mind.
"No. This can't be true," he muttered.
The phone slipped out of his hand and crashed heavily onto the floor.