Chapter 3
That night at eleven, Arthur came home.
He went to pour himself some water. His movements suddenly stopped, his gaze falling on the empty spot–where a pair of
matching mugs used to sit, now there was nothing.
“Evelyn?”
He frowned slightly, confusion crossing his face. “Where are the mugs? What happened to them?”
“They broke,” I said.
He paused, his eyes drifting to the trash can. Shards of porcelain
reflected a dull gleam under the light. He glanced at them, and his expression visibly relaxed.
“Well, if they’re broken, they’re broken. We’ll just buy a new
pair someday.”
He turned toward me, oblivious to the fact that he was the one
who knocked them over this morning.
I looked at him and said nothing.
Some things, once broken, stay broken. You can’t buy an
identical replacement.
He pulled a small jewelry box from his pocket and held it out to me. “Oh, right–today is our seven–year anniversary, isn’t it?
Open it?”
I took the box and opened it.
Inside was a pair of diamond earrings.
A corner of the receipt peeked out from beneath the box. I
caught a glimpse–purchased at the mall below the hotel, at 6
PM today.
Suddenly, I understood.
Chloe’s “one–year anniversary” post had reminded him that
today was also our seven–year anniversary. So after spending
time with her, he stopped by the hotel mall and picked up this ”
compensation.”
My mind drifted to the drawer in the bedroom nightstand.
Inside lay three other pairs of earrings, all similar in style, all
gifts he’d given me as “compensation” over the years. Each
purchase timed shortly after he’d stood me up.
I’d never worn a single pair.
Because I don’t have pierced ears.
I told him this in our first year together. Back then, he’d been
holding my hand, saying he wanted to buy me earrings. I said no
need–I don’t have pierced ears, and I’m afraid of the pain. He said he wouldn’t buy earrings anymore then, he’d get me something else.
Later, he forgot.
Or rather, he never bothered to remember.
“Do you like them?” Arthur leaned in, his tone carrying a hint of
self–satisfaction.
I lifted my eyes to look at him.
He clearly didn’t notice anything wrong. He cleared his throat,
and his tone became more deliberate.
“Evelyn, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”
“That major client project you’ve been working on for six months–Chloe’s involved too, right?” He paused. “They’re
finalizing the first–name attorney next week. I was thinking…
maybe let her take first billing this time, and you take second.
You know, mentor her a bit.”
I fell silent.
That case. I’d spent six months on it. It was supposed to be a
crucial stepping stone for my promotion to senior partner.
Seeing my silence, Arthur’s tone became earnest, almost
paternal.
“I know you’ve put a lot into this case. You’ve been working overtime for half a year, and you’re the one who secured the client. But Chloe is a very promising young attorney. She needs a high–profile credential like this to establish herself in the
industry.”
He looked at me, his eyes filled with a self–assured expectation.” As her senior, it’s only right that you help mentor new talent. Don’t you think?”
I looked at this man in front of me and suddenly laughed.
The smile was faint, tinged with a bittersweet sense of release.
So the earrings, this rare acknowledgment of our seven years- it was all just groundwork before making his request.
“Of course,” I said, my voice calm, devoid of any ripple.
Not just this case. From now on, all the cases, all the resources,
even Arthur himself–I wouldn’t compete with Chloe over any of
it anymore.
Because after tonight, I’d be gone for good.
Arthur was clearly surprised by my easy agreement. He froze
for a moment, then a satisfied smile spread across his face.
“I knew you’d be reasonable, Evelyn. You’ve always been the
most sensible one.”
Arthur stood up, as if suddenly remembering something, his
tone light. “Oh, right—let’s go to City Hall tomorrow and get registered. We’ve put it off long enough. It’s time.”
Without waiting for my response, he asked, “What time is flight tomorrow?”
your
“Four in the afternoon,” I said.
“Perfect. We’ll go at eleven in the morning.” He checked his
watch. “We’ll have plenty of time.”
I looked up at him. Taking a deep breath, I prepared to tell him
about quitting and leaving for Mexico–to officially end these
seven years.
“Arthur, there’s something I need to tell you…”
His phone rang, cutting me off.
Chloe’s name flashed on the screen.
Arthur glanced at it and immediately answered, his voice
instantly softening. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you asleep yet?”
Fragmented sounds came through the line, tearful. I couldn’t
make out the details, just catching words like “puppy,” “sick,” ”
alone.”
“Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’ll be right there.” Arthur’s voice was
impossibly tender. “Stay home and wait for me, okay? Don’t be
scared. I’m here.”
After hanging up, he looked at me, guilt and unease clearly
written on his face.
“Chloe’s dog is sick, and she can’t handle it alone. I…”
I looked at him and forced a polite, accommodating smile.
“It’s fine. Go ahead.”
He visibly relaxed, relief washing over him as he reached for his
coat.
“Then we’ll go to City Hall tomorrow at eleven sharp. This time for sure. I promise. I’ll be there on time.”
The moment the door closed behind him, the smile vanished from my face.
In the end, he didn’t give me the chance to say goodbye.
Perhaps this was fate’s arrangement–sparing me from having to say the word “over” out loud.
The next day, I dragged my already–packed suitcase out the door. I didn’t go to City Hall. I went straight to the airport.
My phone stayed silent.
No calls. No texts.
Chapter 3
At 3:45 PM, I sat in the departure lounge. Finally, my phone
buzzed.
A text from Arthur.
“Sorry, Chloe’s dog was still sick. Just left the vet with her.”
“Couldn’t make it today. You go ahead on your trip. When you
get back, we’ll register first thing. I promise this time.”
I stared at the message, my heart eerily calm.
Of course. The 18th time our wedding registration had been
canceled.
I typed out one final message:
“No need, Arthur. I won’t be going to City Hall with you
anymore.”
“We’re done.”
“I’ve resigned from the firm. I’m at the airport right now, about
to fly to Mexico.”
“From today on, we won’t be seeing each other again.”
I hit send and prepared to turn off my phone.
The next second, incoming call notifications flooded the screen.
Arthur’s name flashed over and over again.