Chapter 2

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

Then I reached out and slowly put my hand on the doorknob.

I shoved the door open hard, and it slammed against the wall with a loud bang.

Verda and Martin froze. She scrambled off him, fumbling to cover herself with whatever clothes she could grab.

Martin just stared at me, a smug little grin on his face like he was daring me to react.

"Arnold, you—" Verda's voice shook, her eyes wide with panic.

I felt drained just looking at them.

I used to think I had the perfect love, the happiest marriage. Now it all felt like one big joke.

"Let's get divorced," I said, my voice flat but cold enough to chill the air.

"No! Arnold, please, let me explain!" Verda cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It's not what you think—"

"Explain? What's there to explain? I saw it with my own eyes. How much clearer could it get?" I let out a cold, bitter laugh.

My mind flashed to our wedding day—her in that white dress, promising to love me forever.

Now that promise was nothing but a scrap of paper blown away by the wind.

"Wasn't I good to you? I gave you everything you wanted. I bent over backwards to make you happy. And this is how you repay me, huh?" My voice rose with every word, anger burning through me.

"Arnold, I'm sorry. Really. Please don't leave me." She clutched at my arm with teary eyes, but I shoved her off.

Her touch made my skin crawl, like I'd brushed against something filthy.

I turned away. I couldn't stand the sight of her fake face anymore.

"Arnold, please. I can explain—"

"Enough!" I cut her off. "I don't want to hear another word. Tomorrow, we're getting divorced."

I walked out of that room—once a place of warmth in their eyes, now nothing but a suffocating trap.

Behind me, Verda kept sobbing, but I didn't care anymore.

Then I heard her voice again, shaky but softer. "Arnold, actually, Martin and I were doing therapy to help me get over my fear."

I spun around. Her tear-streaked face looked desperate, and I almost laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.

"Therapy? Does therapy mean stripping down? Does it mean holding each other like that?" I stepped closer, each word sharp enough to stab.

Verda's face went pale. Her lips trembled, but she had no answer.

I saw the guilt written all over her, and my rage boiled over.

I slapped her hard. My palm stung, but in a twisted way, it felt good.

Verda held her cheek, staring at me in shock, tears streaming down her face. "Arnold, you hit me?"

"Yeah, I hit you!" I roared. "Got anything else to say?"

"It's not what you think—" she started again, but I cut her off.

"Divorce. I said we're getting divorced." I forced each word out through clenched teeth.

Then I turned and walked away without looking back.

Her crying faded behind me, drowned out by the deafening ringing in my ears. All I could see was darkness.

Outside, I sucked in a deep breath of cold air. It filled my lungs, making me feel a little more awake.

I headed for the elevator with heavy steps.

The doors slid shut, cutting me off from that place full of memories I never wanted again.

My chest felt hollow, like something had been ripped out of me.

I wandered the streets with no idea where to go next. My body felt heavy, my mind even heavier—like a wave crashing over me, dragging me under.