Chapter 3

Anthony opened his mouth, trying to make an excuse. "That's all ancient history. Jennie's in a bad way now. The doctors said she doesn't have much time left, and finding a matching kidney is nearly impossible.

"I matched. It's only one kidney. I'll be okay, but if she doesn't get it, she's done for." He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, so righteously, as if he were engaged in some noble cause.

My words were light as a feather, but each one hit like a ton of bricks. "So you decided to hide all this from me, your legal wife.

"You went and got tested behind my back, arranged the surgery in secret, and maybe you were even planning to have your kidney cut out for your ex-wife on some weekend when I'm working late or out of town. Is that it?"

"It wasn't in secret," Anthony tried to protest, but his voice was so weak it was almost pathetic. "I just couldn't find the right moment to tell you. I was scared you'd worry, scared you'd say no."

"Scared I'd say no?" My voice finally broke through, sharp enough to cut the air. "Anthony, I'm your wife. Something this huge, and you didn't even think I deserved to know? Am I anything to you?

"Am I some trophy wife you keep around to look good in front of everyone, to carry on your family line? Or am I your free maid, taking care of your parents and cleaning up after you?

"Or maybe I'm a prop you use to prove you're a successful guy with a family?" Tears suddenly stung my eyes, blurring my vision. But I clenched my jaw, refusing to let them fall.

'Don't cry, Zora. Don't let him see you lose it,' I told myself. 'To him, your tears probably mean less than a single weak cough from Jennie.'

"And what about those payments?" I stared him down, every word ice-cold. "Rain or shine, every month, right on time. Living expenses? Medical bills? Anthony, we've been married three years. Mortgage, car payments, daily costs. Haven't I been the one counting every dollar?

"You told me your project payments were slow, that money was tight, and I believed you. I held back from buying that sound system you knew I wanted so badly. And what did you do?

"You kept funneling money to another woman, to the one who stomped all over your pride." I raised the phone, almost throwing it at him. "Look at this. It's not only money.

"It's the nights we spent together, the breakfasts I made for you, the future I dreamed for us. And you fed it all to the dogs. Gave it all to that shameless, brought-it-on-herself Jennie."

"Zora, don't push it," Anthony snapped, his face darkening. Any guilt left in him was wiped out, replaced by rage and humiliation. "Jennie's a patient now. This is life or death. How can you be so heartless, so vicious?

"Yeah, I hid the money transfers from you, and I was planning to donate my kidney because I couldn't stand by and watch her die. It's a life we're talking about. Is your heart made of stone?"

'Vicious. Heartless. Heart made of stone. Turns out, in his mind, I'm the bad guy because I won't donate my kidney or keep supporting his ex-wife with my money,' I sadly thought.

The sheer absurdity of it all hit me so hard, it almost numbed the pain burning inside me.

I stared at the man I'd slept beside for three years. The face that once made me feel secure and loved was now twisted into something strange and disgusting.

He kept going, growing more and more worked up, trying to justify his betrayal and deception with all that talk about humanitarianism and life comes first. "The surgery's already scheduled, and the evaluation is tomorrow.

"Zora‌, I'm begging you. Stay out of this. Once I'm out of surgery and back on my feet, I'll explain everything and try to make it up to you. Right now, saving her life is all that matters."

Made it up to me? What an empty promise. With what, exactly? With his other kidney? Or with that heart of his, the one that never warmed up for me, always beating for Jennie?

The steam from the bathroom had long since faded, leaving nothing but a cold, tense standoff between us.

His wet hair had stopped dripping, but that dampness seemed to have soaked into his whole body and into every corner of this place we used to call home.

The little flame that had flickered in my heart for three years, including the hope for love, for trust, for all those simple, cozy dreams for our future, got snuffed out completely with an instant blow from his shameless betrayal and finger-pointing.

Not even a wisp of smoke remained. All that remained was endless cold and the dead ashes of everything that had burned away.

I slowly stood up, my legs a little numb, but I held myself steady. I set his phone down on the coffee table, screen facing down, covering up all those sickening records.

Then I looked at him, my eyes calm and blank, with no emotion. "Anthony," I said, "let's get a divorce."