Chapter 3

"Julian was exhausted last night. He's still asleep. Come on in, Maya."

How ironic. I had lived in this apartment for three years.

Ever since our secret marriage, I had made this place my home. Every little piece of decor was handpicked and arranged by me.

My eyes fell on the wind chime hanging near the entrance.

Whether intentionally or not, Chloe noticed my gaze. When she closed the door, she slammed it hard. The wind chime shattered on the floor.

Revealing the hidden engraving inside.

It was Julian and Chloe's initials, wrapped in little engraved hearts.

I looked down in silence, my heart turning to ice.

I had spent two months making that wind chime. When I finished, Julian had taken it, saying he wanted to engrave our names so our love would last forever.

We had been married for barely a year then. Naturally, I thought he meant *our* love.

I had proudly hung it right by the front door.

But it turned out...

For three years, every single time I listened to those chimes, I was unknowingly celebrating the love between Julian and Chloe.

The loud crash brought Julian out of the bedroom, and his eyes fell directly on the shattered pieces bearing their names.

His face paled. He rushed over and stepped in front of me to block my view.

Behind him, the master bedroom door was wide open.

Spent condoms and discarded clothes littered the floor, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination about what went down last night.

Under Julian's guilty, panicking gaze, I spoke up.

"Julian, your birthday is coming up. I'll make sure to gift you a few bulk boxes of condoms."

"Since you love Chloe so much but can't bring yourself to marry her, you'd better stay safe, right?"

I set the gifts down and turned to leave.

Julian scrambled to chase after me.

But behind him, Chloe let out a sharp cry of pain. She had cut her hand on the shattered ceramic.

Without a second thought, Julian spun back around.

He scooped Chloe up in his arms. Pushing past me, he snatched my car keys right out of my hand and ordered without even looking back:

"Maya, walk home. Chloe's hands can't have any scars. I need to get her to the ER!"

Julian's figure vanished from the hallway.

The door was left wide open, and the draft sent a chill straight through my bones.

I looked down, pulled out my draft of the divorce papers, and took one last look at the home I had built over the last three years.

I wanted to act like a dramatic heroine in a movie and throw all my things out. But looking around, I realized Julian and I didn't even have a single wedding photo together.

I couldn't even throw my wedding ring in his face because we had never bought rings when we got married.

In the end, I simply called an Uber and went back to my mother's place.

On the way, I sent him a PDF of the divorce agreement on SnapChat.

Within seconds, he sent an angry voice note, lecturing me fiercely.

"Maya! Can you grow up for once? Just because I took Chloe to the hospital, you're threatening me with a divorce?!"

"Chloe's hands are delicate! They can't have any scars!"

I looked down at my own right hand, tracing the faint, tiny scars on my fingers.

He said Chloe's hands were precious.

But she was just a high school teacher. Did her hands really need to be flawless?

For three years, whenever Chloe called, Julian would ditch me in a heartbeat to go cook for her.

While I, a licensed orthopedic surgeon whose hands actually saved lives, was expected to do all the household chores for him.

I kept my eyes on my phone and texted back:

"Julian, let's sign the papers quickly. I'm already planning my wedding."