The first thing I did after leaving the police station was call my lawyer and have him draw up divorce papers. My friends were floored. “Divorce? But she’s head over heels in love with you, man!” My wife, madly in love with me? “Yeah, remember when you had that bad fall? She was the one who secretly donated over a pint of her own blood for you.” “And that time she got in that car accident? She was delirious, just mumbling your name over and over. When she came to, she denied the whole thing.” “We can all see it, Asher. She adores you. She’s just too proud to let you know.” “Don’t do it, man. She’s been secretly planning a huge anniversary surprise for you!” I glanced down at the three angry, red scratches on my forearm. Her handsome young executive assistant had carved them into my skin with a fork. “No,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m divorcing her.” 1 My friends tried to talk me out of it for hours. Not a single one of them could change my mind, not even my own brother. After five years of marriage, this was the first I’d heard of it. That Eleanor Vance, my Eleanor, felt this way about me. The whole world knew, it seemed. Everyone except me. There were moments, fleeting glimpses, when I’d caught an undeniable flicker of emotion in her eyes. But the way she and her assistant were constantly wrapped around each other always short-circuited any deeper thought I might have given her loving gazes. Maybe she did love me. We had been through so much together, weathered so many storms. But every time I brought him up, it was the same old story: “It’s just work, Asher,” or “Don’t be so ridiculously jealous.” Her accusations buried any possibility of love before it could even surface. Until last night. I went to pick her up from a corporate gala. I found her assistant, Julian, with one arm around her unconscious form, while his other hand was slyly working its way under her blouse, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. I saw red. My fist connected with his jaw. Julian retaliated, grabbing a steak fork from a nearby table and slashing three bleeding furrows into my arm. In the end, it was Eleanor who called the cops. On me. The charge was assault. While giving his statement, Julian cradled the bruised side of his face, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. Eleanor sat with him just outside the interrogation room, a silent, supportive presence. By the time I was released, they were gone. Her car, too. It wasn't until the next morning that the door to our apartment swung open. The stale smell of alcohol on her was gone, replaced by something clean and foreign. “Have a good night’s sleep at Julian’s?” I asked, looking up at her. My voice was devoid of any emotion. She sighed, that familiar, weary expression settling on her face—the one that always made me feel like I was the one being unreasonable. “I’ve told you, there’s nothing between us. How many times do we have to have this conversation? You’re the one who assaulted him. I couldn’t exactly expect you to apologize, could I? The least I could do was drive him home and buy him a gift to make up for your behavior.” My fists clenched at my sides, the knuckles white. She was getting agitated now. “Can’t you be rational for once? The kid’s got an image to maintain. How’s he supposed to show up to work with a black eye?” “He has a black eye,” I ground out, “and I’m supposed to be untouched?” Her gaze finally fell to the scratches on my arm. Her breath hitched. “Did… did he do that?” I pulled my arm back as she reached for it. The wounds had been deeper yesterday, bleeding freely. But she only noticed them now that they had scabbed over. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I was drunk last night, I didn’t see…” “You didn’t see my arm bleeding, but you saw the faint bruise on his cheek?” She sighed again, a long, drawn-out sound of frustration. “Asher, Julian and I are just friends. If I were in love with him, I never would have married you. I’m not the kind of person who cheats.” Just then, the front door opened again. Before I could even register my surprise, a figure brushed past me, rushing to Eleanor’s side. “Eleanor! I was so worried. Did he give you any trouble?” I stumbled back, knocking a vase on the console table. It wobbled precariously. I watched as Julian cupped her face in his hands, his expression a mask of pure concern. “He didn't hit you, did he?” “Julian, this is not the time!” Eleanor’s eyes flashed with panic. She pushed him away and turned to me. But I shoved her back, my voice dangerously low. “You gave him a key to our home?” “I…” “Mr. Vance!” Julian stepped between us, his eyes blazing with righteous indignation. “I’m her executive assistant. If she forgets a file or some other important document, what’s so wrong with me coming back to get it for her? Can you do anything besides fantasize about her cheating on you? Take a look around! In the real world, men and women work together. It’s normal. Maybe you should try to get out of the dark ages!” CRACK. “Ah!” “Is this your idea of normal workplace interaction?” I snarled, my voice barely a whisper as I slammed him against the wall. “Undressing her while she’s passed out drunk?” Eleanor froze. I tightened my grip on Julian’s collar. “And then lying to the police, telling them I’m mentally unstable, that I see every man near my wife as some kind of rival?” “Let… let go…” he choked out, his face turning pale. Eleanor rushed forward. “Asher, please, let’s just talk about this. Let him go.” A searing pain shot up my arm. The scabs on my wounds had been torn open in the struggle. A triumphant smirk played on Julian’s lips. “You son of a bitch!” My fist was already flying towards his face again when Eleanor’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. “I said, stop! Didn’t you hear me?” BAM. A force slammed into me, sending me staggering back. I crashed into the console table. The vase I had bumped earlier shattered into a thousand pieces. My hand landed squarely on the shards, and crimson bloomed across the polished wood. For the first time in all our years together, she had laid a hand on me. And it was for him. I looked up. Julian was leaning against her, clutching his chest as if I’d dealt him a mortal blow. She didn’t even glance back at me. “It’s okay,” she murmured to him, her voice soft. “I’ll apologize to you on his behalf. Take the week off. Rest up at home.” Her words were professional, detached. But for a split second, I saw a flash of genuine pain and concern in her eyes. It was a look I knew all too well. For the fifteen years I’d known her, that look had been reserved only for me. I closed my eyes, the sting of betrayal sharper than the glass in my hand. “Eleanor,” I said, my voice hollow. “Let’s get a divorce.” 2 The hand supporting Julian went rigid. She turned, her face a pale mask of shock. “What did you say?” I clutched my bleeding hand. Her breath caught in her throat. “You’re…” “Mr. Vance,” Julian interrupted, his tone dripping with condescension. “Threatening a woman with divorce is the most pathetic thing a man can do. Eleanor works her ass off to support this family, and what do you do? You mistrust her, you threaten her! What kind of man are you? No woman would put up with that!” His words seemed to steady her. The panic in her eyes subsided, replaced by a hard glint. “Asher, don’t joke about things like that.” I turned away from her, walked to my desk, and pulled the papers from the drawer. A flicker of triumph lit up Julian’s eyes before he quickly masked it, turning to Eleanor with a look of feigned concern. But Eleanor’s expression had changed. The confidence was gone, replaced by a dawning horror. “You actually had them drawn up?” “Mr. Vance,” Julian chimed in smoothly. “Divorce papers aren’t just a threat. Once they’re signed, there’s no going back. Are you so sure she won’t call your bluff? Are you banking on the fact that she loves you too much to ever sign?” I narrowed my eyes. From the moment I met him, I knew Julian was trouble. And now, he was proving it. His words were a masterful piece of manipulation, pretending to defend her while daring her, provoking her pride. He knew Eleanor better than I thought. He knew she couldn’t stand being backed into a corner. If you pushed her far enough, she’d burn everything to the ground just to prove she couldn't be controlled. A cold smile touched my lips. “Don’t worry. The second she signs, I’ll be out of here. And I won’t look back.” Julian’s lips curled into a victorious smirk. But in the next instant, the divorce agreement became confetti in Eleanor’s hands. “Eleanor!” Julian cried out, instinctively trying to catch the fluttering pieces of paper. Eleanor’s eyes were locked on mine, burning with a fierce intensity. “I will never sign.” Julian stared at her, dumbfounded. I was surprised, too. I had pushed her this far, and she still wouldn’t break? “Fine,” I nodded, my voice calm. “Then we’ll go through the courts.” “What?” She looked as if she’d been slapped. “I’m moving out. I can’t stand to be in this house with him around.” I grabbed the suitcase I had packed earlier. Eleanor lunged to block the door. “Asher!” “Eleanor!” Julian quickly pulled her back. I walked out without a backward glance. Her voice, trembling, trailed after me: “Let go of me! Asher! Don’t go! We need to talk!” 3 After moving out, I found a job. Before I gave up my career for Eleanor, I was a damn good designer. Getting back into the industry felt like coming home. I adapted quickly. But it wasn’t long before Julian cornered me outside my new office building. “She fired me,” he announced, his voice loud enough for my new colleagues to hear. “Won’t take my calls, won’t answer my texts. Are you happy now?” Heads turned. A crowd was starting to form. “Asher, I was her assistant. It was my job to be in close contact with her! Is every man who even speaks to her a threat in your eyes? Why should we, the people who are just trying to do our jobs, have to pay the price for your paranoia?” Whispers rippled through the onlookers. “Sounds like some corporate drone got caught in the crossfire of a CEO and her jealous husband.” “That kid looks pretty clean-cut. I doubt he’s a homewrecker. The other guy is probably the problem, forcing his wife to fire her assistant.” “I wouldn’t put up with a man like that. If she did cheat on him, I wouldn’t even blame her.” Hearing this, a smug smile touched Julian’s lips. He puffed out his chest, his voice ringing with even more righteous anger. “Mr. Vance, you can be as controlling and possessive as you want. You could have asked Eleanor to hire a female assistant. But to attack me, to force her to fire me… don’t you think that’s going too far?” “What? That bastard hit him, too?” “This isn’t even Eleanor’s company, is it? So he won’t let his wife work with men, but he’s fine working in an office full of women? Hypocrisy at its finest.” Julian tilted his chin up, looking down his nose at me. “Mr. Vance, people can see the truth for what it is. I suggest you call Eleanor right now and clear this up. Don’t let your marital drama ruin the lives of us working folk!” “Clear what up?” I asked, crossing my arms. “What is there to explain about what you and Eleanor did?” “Here we go again,” someone in the crowd muttered. “This guy thinks every man on earth is trying to steal his wife.” “Like we have time for that. Women just slow you down.” “He’s hopeless. All testosterone, no brain.” “Wait… what’s that on the building across the street?” Everyone turned. On the blank white wall of the opposite building, a massive, crystal-clear image was being projected. “Turn it off!” Julian screamed. But it was too late. Everyone saw it: Julian, leaning over an unconscious Eleanor, his hand slipping beneath her blouse, reaching for her bra. “Whoa… so the husband wasn’t just imagining things. That assistant really is…” “Damn. He looks so innocent, but he’s a total creep.” “Well, you can’t blame him for trying. That Eleanor is a knockout, and young, too. Of course he’d make a move.” “Asher!” Julian grabbed the front of my shirt. “Turn it off! That’s slander! I’ll sue you!” POW. My fist slammed into his face before he could even see it coming. He stumbled back, which gave me a clear view of the person who had just gotten out of a car behind him. Eleanor. She was staring at me, her face a canvas of shock. The last time I’d hit him in front of her, she’d shoved me into a pile of broken glass. The time before that, she’d had me arrested. “Eleanor!” Julian wailed, his eyes turning red. “He’s lost it again! Look at my face! He hit me again!” I just stared at her, silent. She walked forward. Julian’s lips twitched into a smug, triumphant smile. “Did you hurt your hand?” she asked, gently taking my fist in her hands. “Next time, don’t do it yourself.” Julian froze. “Buddy’s not eating,” she said softly, her eyes searching mine. “He misses you. Please, come home. Just to see him. Please?” I pulled my hand from her grasp and walked away without a word. Behind me, I heard her voice, thick with unshed tears. “Asher.” 4 Eleanor started posting non-stop on her social media. Pictures of her daily life, always with Buddy, our Golden Retriever. She wasn’t the type to abuse an animal to get my attention, so instead, she flooded her feed with adorable pictures of him, hoping to lure me back home. Whenever I made a public appearance, she’d be there, Buddy in tow if she could manage it. But I also noticed that wherever she was, Julian was never far behind. I gave Eleanor the cold shoulder, and Julian would use the opportunity to slide in, trying to talk to her. She would brush him off, her voice laced with impatience. “You’re fired! Don’t you get it?” His eyes would well up with tears. “Eleanor, are you trying to ruin my life?” “Ruin your life?” She let out a bitter laugh. “You’re the one who’s ruining mine! My husband won’t come home, he won’t speak to me, he’s served me with court summons… I’m fighting a divorce case because of you! Isn’t this all your doing?” Julian looked indignant. “That’s because he’s paranoid! Everyone in the company knows our relationship was strictly professional! He’s the one who wants to twist it into something else! It just proves he doesn’t deserve your love!” “Shut up!” Eleanor snapped. “You have no right to talk about him.” “I…” Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. “And another thing,” she continued, her voice cold as ice. “My relationship with you was professional. But what about yours with me?” Julian was stunned into silence. Eleanor scoffed and turned away. “Stay away from me from now on. I don’t want my husband to have any more misunderstandings.” “Eleanor…” Julian’s voice was a choked whisper. He turned his head and saw me walking by. His tear-filled eyes burned with a raw, undiluted hatred. I pretended I didn’t see him. The sight of those two together soured my mood completely. From then on, I only accepted invitations to high-level forums and exclusive events. No riff-raff allowed. But after a few weeks of peace, Eleanor somehow managed to get her hands on an invitation. She was back at my side. It was the day before our first court hearing. “Asher, can we please not do this?” “Can you please stop following me?” Her eyes grew red. “Asher, I swear, there was nothing between us. It was strictly professional.” I didn’t entirely disbelieve her. Eleanor wasn’t the type to have a physical affair. Her upbringing wouldn’t allow it. It was one of the things I’d admired about her. But she still didn’t get it. A relationship doesn’t need a physical affair to be broken. Even if there were no romantic feelings for Julian on her part, her complete lack of boundaries was a betrayal in itself. One or two instances are a thorn in your side. Five years of it becomes an uncrossable chasm. “Let’s just end this amicably, Eleanor,” I sighed. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. Let’s not make it ugly.” “Asher…” The tough-as-nails woman who wouldn’t cry over a broken bone was now looking at me like a lost child. I turned to leave. Just then, a panicked shout echoed from the hallway. “Fire!” The stairwell instantly descended into chaos. I smelled the thick, acrid scent of smoke. “Gas masks!” My instincts kicked in. I smashed the glass of the emergency cabinet. After putting one on, I was about to run when I remembered her. I turned and tossed the remaining mask to Eleanor. At that exact moment, a familiar voice called out from the next room. “Eleanor! cough! Eleanor, are you in there?” Eleanor, who had been pulling me towards the exit, froze. That voice… it was Julian. “Cough! Cough!” A wracking cough echoed from the other room. I tugged her arm. “Let’s go! We’ll get help for him downstairs!” “No!” She grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. I stared at her, bewildered. “Julian has weak lungs.” “Eleanor, what are you talking about?” A hand pressed against my gas mask. I heard her voice, laced with a terrible, misplaced pity. “I’m sorry.” “Eleanor! cough, cough!” The mask was ripped from my face. Thick, black smoke flooded my lungs. Tears streamed from my eyes. “Eleanor… cough… Eleanor…” “Shh, it’s okay,” she said, her voice receding. “I’ll just give him the mask, and then I’ll come right back for you.” The smoke was a suffocating curtain. I crawled towards the door, my lungs on fire. Through the haze, I saw a familiar silhouette being supported by Eleanor, guided gently down the stairs. “Cough… Eleanor…” You said you’d just give him the mask! “Is anyone else up there?” I heard a firefighter’s voice through the roar. “Yes… yes… I’m… here…” My voice was a raw, useless rasp. Then I heard her voice, a familiar sound, answering for me. “No one. Just get him to safety.” My world went silent. The blood in my veins turned to ice.
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