Chapter 5

Where was I supposed to go? My parents were far away, back home. If I called them this late at night, it would only make them worry.

Friends? For the past three years, I'd thrown everything into this so-called home. I wrapped myself up in Anthony's world, losing touch with my own friends along the way. And how could I begin to talk about something this messed up?

In the end, I booked a room at a cheap hotel that never closes. The place was tiny, filled with the smell of disinfectant and musty sheets.

I collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the dull overhead light, my mind a total blank. I didn't know how long I lay there, my body stiff and numb, before I finally started to feel something again.

First, a faint tremor started in my fingertips, then spread through my whole body until my teeth were chattering softly.

Then, a dull, delayed pain exploded from my chest, spreading to every nerve in my body. It wasn't a scream that tore me apart. It was a silent collapse.

Trust, reliance, and every dream I'd ever had about the future. They all shattered in the dead silence.

I sat up and turned on my phone. There were dozens of missed calls, and my WhatsApp was blowing up. Calls from Anthony, his parents, and a few from our mutual friends.

Anthony's messages kept coming. First, he was desperately trying to explain. Then he started lashing out, and finally, he was pleading for me to come back.

[Zora, please pick up. Can we talk, okay?]

[I know you're mad, but it's not what you think.]

[Jennie's got nobody left. Her parents abandoned her. I can't let her die.]

[Can't you give me a break? Can't you see me trying to do something good?]

[Zora‌, do you have to push me like this? Do you think you can toss around the word divorce like it's nothing?]

[I messed up. I really did. Please come home, okay?]

I didn't reply to a single one. I just blocked his number and WhatsApp.

Then I opened my mobile banking app and checked my account. After we got married, we kept our finances mostly separate. We split the bills, but each of us managed our own income.

My salary wasn't bad, but most of it went to household expenses and our joint savings, so there wasn't much left in my own account.

I dug out our marriage certificate, property deed photos, the car registration certificate, and a bunch of important receipts and chat screenshots from over the years. And I needed a lawyer.

It was almost dawn before I finally fell asleep. I barely slept, tossing and turning as one crazy nightmare after another hit me.

Every time, I'd wake up in a panic, covered in cold sweat. The last time I woke up, the sky outside was already a dull gray.

I splashed some water on my face and stared at my reflection, haggard, pale, with heavy dark circles under my eyes. I patted my cheeks with cold water, forcing myself to snap out of it.

*****

At three o'clock this afternoon in Central City Organ Transplant Center, I wasn't going there to cause trouble.

I just needed to see it with my own eyes to kill off finally the last bit of wishful thinking I was holding onto.

At 2:40 PM, I was tucked away at the end of the hallway in the waiting area of the Central City Organ Transplant Center, a mask on my face and a cap pulled low.

There weren't many people around. The air was thick with the mingled scent of disinfectant and a heavy kind of hope.

At 2:55 PM, the elevator doors slid open. Anthony stepped out. He'd changed into a different outfit, but he looked exhausted, with bags under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn't slept well.

The way he helped someone along was careful, almost protective, his attention completely locked on them.

It was Jennie. She was nothing like the bright, bold woman I remembered.

She was so thin she looked almost see-through, her skin pale and yellowish, lost in an oversized hospital gown that made her seem more fragile. Her hair looked dull and lifeless, drooping softly over her shoulders.

She was leaning on Anthony, walking slow, coughing quietly from time to time.

Anthony was practically holding her up, leaning in close to whisper something in her ear, his expression soft with a gentle patience I'd never seen in him before.

That tenderness wasn't the kind a husband gave his wife. It was protective, almost out of compassion, as if he was caring for someone he pitied more than someone he loved.

Jennie looked up at him, managed a faint smile, and murmured something so soft only he could hear.

Anthony nodded immediately, gently settled her into a chair, then hurried over to the front desk and spoke quietly to the staff.

I sat in the corner, keeping my distance, watching them in silence.

I watched Anthony run around, handling all the paperwork and grabbing documents, never once losing his cool.

Every time Jennie winced and pressed a hand to her side, Anthony would immediately lean in, his face full of worry, asking if she was okay.

I watched the wordless understanding they shared, the way Anthony gave his undivided, unwavering attention.

It turned out Anthony wasn't naturally cold or incapable of tenderness. All that warmth, patience, and sense of responsibility he had was never meant for me.

He gave it all to Jennie, his ex-wife, who betrayed him and now needed saving. What a noble romance.

Or maybe not. Maybe it was not love. It was pity, guilt, a sense of duty, or his own desperate need to feel like the good guy.

But whatever it was, it was no longer my concern.