Chapter 2

The wheels of the suitcase rolled across the floor with a dull, droning noise.

Percival blocked the doorway like a wall.

"You can't leave."

His voice was hoarse, edged with pleading.

I stopped and looked up at him.

"Get out of the way."

"Aria, let's talk this through."

"I admit I was wrong. Terribly wrong."

"But we can't let five years together be ruined over one mistake."

It felt like the biggest joke I'd ever heard.

One mistake?

That necklace locked away for three years — did that count as one?

The gardenia scent I'd smelled on him more times than I could count — did that count as one?

The razor Roberta blurted out about — did that count as one?

"Percival, you think this was just once?"

He had no answer.

"I…"

"I was just too lonely."

"You're stationed at the base. I don't see a soul all year. Do you have any idea how lonely I've been?"

I didn't say it.

I only said, "You're lonely, so that means you get to go find other women?"

"Then can I do the same?"

His expression shifted.

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting!"

"What exactly is going on between you and that Attorney Sullivan?"

I laughed in sheer disbelief.

"Whatever's between me and him, do I need to report it to you, Mr. Dickerson?"

"We'll be divorced soon enough."

He reached out and seized my wrist, gripping it hard.

"As long as we're not divorced, you're my wife every single day!"

His grip made my wrist ache.

I didn't struggle. I just looked at him calmly.

"Percival, do you know something?"

"You look truly ugly right now."

He froze.

I wrenched my hand free, and he stumbled.

"Don't touch me with your dirty hands."

The words went in like a knife, straight into his heart.

The light in his eyes snapped out instantly, replaced by a dead, ashen gray.

I didn't look at him again. I dragged my suitcase around him and opened the door.

The evening breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of osmanthus from the neighborhood.

Not that nauseating gardenia smell.

I took a deep breath and walked out.

No footsteps followed behind me.

Myron's car was parked downstairs.

When he saw me, he got out at once and helped me load the suitcase into the trunk.

"Is it all taken care of?"

he asked.

I nodded.

"Let's go."

As the car pulled out of the community, I saw in the rearview mirror a blurry figure standing at our window.

Perfectly still.

I looked away, leaned back against the seat, and closed my eyes.

The apartment Myron found for me wasn't big — a one-bedroom — but it was very clean.

He carried my things up, gave me a few quick instructions, and left.

"Call me anytime you need anything."

The door shut, and the whole world went quiet.

I sank into the sofa, feeling like every bit of strength had been drained out of me.

My phone buzzed.

It was a WhatsApp message from my mother-in-law.

"Aria, what's this squabble between you and Percival about? Couples fight at the head of the bed and make up at the foot of it. Don't be so willful."

"Percival works so hard, bringing honor to the country. At home you should be more understanding of him, not make trouble for him."

Looking at those lines, I just felt sick to my stomach.

I didn't reply. I blocked her outright.

Then Percival called.

I hung up.

He called again.

I hung up again.

After several rounds of that, he sent a text.

"Aria, I know I was wrong. Come back. This home can't be without you."

I stared at the word "home" for a long time.

Then I sent back two words.

"Get lost."

Delete, block, all in one smooth motion.

At last the world was completely at peace.

I needed to go back once to pick up some important documents.

I picked a weekday afternoon on purpose, figuring he'd be at work.

But when I unlocked the door, I found him sitting on the living room sofa.

A few days without seeing him, and he looked far more worn down.

Stubble everywhere, heavy dark shadows under his eyes.

The lights were off, and the place felt dim and gloomy.

When he saw me, his eyes brightened, and he shot to his feet.

"Aria, you're back."

I didn't answer and went straight to the study.

He trailed behind me.

"Does this mean you're willing to forgive me?"

"I knew it. I knew you couldn't bear to leave me."

I opened the drawer and took out my household register and a few other documents.

When he saw the household register in my hand, his face darkened again.

"What are you taking that for?"

"To file for divorce."

I put the documents in my bag and turned to leave.

He blocked my path.

"I won't divorce."

"Aria, I don't agree to a divorce!"

I looked at him and felt it was rather pathetic.

"Percival, this isn't up to you."

"You'll sign the agreement whether you sign it or not. If you insist on dragging it into court, you're the only one who'll be humiliated."

"That face of yours, the national space hero — do you still want to keep it or not?"

He couldn't get a word out.

His gaze fell on my bare fingers.

"Where's your ring?"

I raised my hand so he could see clearly.

"Took it to be melted down."

He swayed, as if he'd been punched.

"You… you're serious?"

"Of course."

I answered calmly.

"The deposit's already paid. I'll have the new chain next week."

With that, I pushed past him and walked out without looking back.

This time, he didn't come after me.