Chapter 4

I had wanted to speak up at dinner and ask him:

If Chloe couldn't speak, how did he know when her period was?

But I swallowed the question.

Because I already knew the answer.

Just like with the cat—when you care about someone, you figure out how to love them, even if they can't say a word.

Once the divorce was final tonight, I was leaving this city.

Months ago, the university had offered me a fast-track promotion. The catch was that I had to complete a three-year teaching fellowship in a remote, underserved community first.

Upon returning, I would be promoted directly to department chair.

Back then, I couldn't bear to leave Nathan for three years, terrified it would strain our marriage.

Now, that fear was gone.

After buying the ice cream this morning, I texted my dean to add my name to the rural fellowship program.

Once submitted, the list was irreversible.

My departure was scheduled for 6:00 AM the following morning.

I finished packing and waited, but Nathan didn't return.

Just as I was about to call him, a text popped up on my screen:

"Chloe's cat seems anxious now that he's back in her apartment. I'm staying a bit longer to calm him down."

I checked the time. It was 11:00 PM.

"It's this late. Don't you think staying at her place looks bad?"

Nathan replied defensively:

"What's there to look bad? Chloe is my student. We have a completely professional relationship."

"Besides, I'm just keeping the cat company. It's not like I'm sleeping over."

My stomach suddenly cramped with a violent spasm before I could reply.

A sharp, familiar pain radiated through my abdomen.

My period had started.

I had suffered from severe dysmenorrhea since I was a teenager. Every cycle required strong painkillers, or the agony became unbearable.

I dragged myself to the medicine cabinet, but the bottle was missing.

Desperate, I texted Nathan:

"Where are the painkillers?"

Nathan replied:

"I gave them to Chloe. She was traveling for the competition, and I was worried she'd get cramps."

Cold sweat dripped down my forehead from the pain.

"Bring them back. My period started, and it hurts so bad."

Minutes ticked by before his message arrived:

"Are you seriously making up an excuse just to force me to come home?"

"Why does your period have to start right now?"

"And since when do you even take painkillers for cramps? I don't remember you ever taking them."

I took them every single month. He had just never bothered to notice.

Another message chimed:

"I'm not coming home tonight. You need to reflect on your attitude. What you said earlier was totally out of line."

After that, my messages stopped delivering.

He had turned off his phone.

I had to order painkillers through a late-night delivery app, curling into a ball on the floor until the medication kicked in.

By the time the pain subsided, it was past 4:00 AM.

I didn't wait for Nathan. I grabbed my suitcases, walked out the door, and headed straight to the transit station.

Meanwhile, Nathan really did spend the night on Chloe's couch.

The next morning, annoyed that I hadn't apologized, he refused to come home out of spite.

A whole week passed without a word from me. Finally, unable to hold out any longer, he returned home grudgingly.

Chloe came with him.

She insisted on coming along to clear up any "misunderstandings" she had caused.

The moment Nathan opened the front door, he called out,

"Lauren, I'm home! Have you realized your mistake yet?"

Silence greeted him.

The apartment was empty.

Every single trace of my existence was gone. I hadn't left behind a single possession.

Nathan stormed into the bedroom, assuming I was throwing a tantrum and staying at a hotel.

Until his eyes fell upon the divorce agreement sitting on the nightstand.

With trembling hands, he opened the folder.

There, signed in firm, clean ink, was my name.

Lauren.