"Mario, you listen to me and you listen good," Sophia said, her voice cutting through the chatter of the company dinner. "I will never, ever have children. There isn't a man on this planet worth putting my body through nine months of hell for!" I left the party under a hail of awkward, pitying stares. When I got home, a courier package was waiting for me. Inside was Sophia's pregnancy report. She was one month along. I’d been out of the country on business for the past two months. I had only gotten back yesterday. Presented with undeniable proof that my wife was cheating on me, I should have felt a tidal wave of grief. Instead, all I felt was… relief. A deep, profound exhalation of breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding for seven years. I called her. When she picked up, my voice was unnervingly calm. "We need to find some time to sign the divorce papers." "Mario, what is this now?" Her tone was laced with disgust. "You're going to divorce me just because I won't give you a baby?" Before I could answer, a syrupy, effeminate voice chirped in the background. It was her childhood best friend, Ron. "Sophia, sweetie, look at these tiny little socks! Wouldn't they be perfect for our baby?" 1 The line went dead. I looked around the house I had once considered my home, a place I had built for us, and let out a long, weary sigh. I’d bought this place outright before we were married, but now, staying here felt… sickening. I decided to pack my things, move out, and sell it. I was taping up a box when the front door swung open. Sophia swept in, with Ron clinging to her arm. "Mario, where are the slippers?" she demanded, her tone that of a queen addressing a servant. "Ron's feet get cold. Go fetch him a pair." Ron shot me a look of pure, triumphant provocation, though his voice was soft as silk. "Thanks so much, Mario. You're the best." I ignored them, carefully placing a stack of design blueprints into my suitcase without a word, without a glance in their direction. The sight of them together churned my stomach. The nausea was physical, like the queasy roll of a hangover on a bumpy car ride, trapped with the cloying scent of cheap perfume. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. "Are you deaf?" Sophia snapped. When I didn't respond, she kicked off one of her stilettos and hurled it at my head. I dodged it easily, finally meeting her gaze with a look of cold indifference. Still, I said nothing. Her eyes finally landed on the packed suitcase. She frowned. "What's the meaning of this?" "I told you on the phone," I said, my voice flat, devoid of any emotion. "We're getting a divorce." I had once loved her down to my very bones. But when disappointment piles up, layer by agonizing layer, love can vanish in a single, silent instant. "Mario, honey, are you throwing a tantrum because of me?" Ron cooed, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "But I've told you before, I'm not into women. Sophia and I are just like sisters!" He simpered. "Look, I'll apologize. Please don't be angry. I'll try my best not to see Sophia anymore, okay?" "Ron, what do you have to be sorry for?" Sophia immediately jumped to his defense. "It's Mario's own fault for being so petty and jealous! It has nothing to do with you!" She shot me a look of pure loathing. "And he's only acting like this because I won't have his baby! Mario, if I had known you were this kind of man, I never would have agreed to marry you!" "It's not too late to fix that mistake," I said, zipping the suitcase shut. I did a quick check of my drafting equipment, then started for the door. "I'm listing the house with a realtor. You should find a new place soon." "You're selling our home?" Her voice rose to a shrill shriek. She grabbed my arm. "Mario, is this really just because I won't have your child? We agreed! You promised you would never pressure me. So you bring it up in front of everyone at the dinner tonight, I say a few words back, and now you want a divorce?" "Don't touch me," I said, shaking her hand off like it was something unclean. "You're filthy." 2 "Filthy?" Her pride, always her most prominent feature, was clearly wounded by my open disgust. "Mario, are you insane?" "Am I wrong?" I shot back. "And for the record, it was Mr. Harrison who brought up the topic of kids tonight, not me. But even if it had been me, you should have shown me some respect in public. You didn't. In your eyes, am I just some piece of trash with no dignity?" "Everyone knows you and Harrison are close! He was just speaking for you!" she retorted. "Besides, what dignity do you need? I'm the CEO of the company. Being my husband is what gives you dignity. What will you have once we're divorced?" Her face was a mask of derision. I stared at her, speechless. It was hard to believe the woman standing in front of me was the same one I had married. Seeing my silence, she mistook it for submission. She pointed a finger at me. "Now, you will apologize to Ron. Immediately. Or I will never forgive you." "Sophia, it's okay," Ron interjected, his voice a study in magnanimity, even as his eyes danced with victory. "Mario loves you so much. It's only natural for him to be a little jealous. He doesn't need to apologize." "You hear that, Mario?" Sophia sneered. "Ron is so kind and understanding. And you? You'll always be petty and small-minded!" She let out a bitter laugh. "You know, if Ron actually liked women, I might never have chosen you. You're such a disappointment." Seeing I still wasn't responding, Ron's voice took on a wounded, quavering tone. "Please, Sophia, don't make things harder for Mario. You know what? I'll apologize to him. If it makes him feel better, I'll even get on my knees." And with that, he actually knelt before me. "Mario, it's all my fault," he whimpered. "Even though I'm not attracted to women, I know I'm still a man in everyone else's eyes. Me being so close to Sophia all the time… it must have been embarrassing for you. That was thoughtless of me." Tears started to stream down his face as he spoke. "I am formally apologizing, and I promise, I will cut all ties with Sophia from now on!" He then proceeded to bow, touching his forehead to the floor. The lengths he would go to were truly pathetic. This performance only enraged Sophia further. She lunged at me, her hand raised to slap me. I caught her wrist, my grip firm, and stared them both down with cold fury. Were they serious? After what they'd done, she thought she could hit me? "You dare to stop me?" she gasped, her face a picture of disbelief. I looked her dead in the eye. "Sophia, I was on a business trip for two months. You are one month pregnant with another man's child. I'm genuinely curious, where in the hell do you get the audacity to come in here and yap at me?" As I spoke, I pulled the pregnancy report from my pocket and slapped it against her face. The color drained from her cheeks, her eyes wide with panic. But only for a second. The fear was instantly replaced by a hardened fury. "Mario! I am your wife! How could you investigate me? Do you have zero trust in me?" I almost laughed. "You're pregnant with another man's baby and you have the nerve to talk about trust? You've really set a new standard for shamelessness." I held up the envelope. "And for the record, I never investigated you. This report was delivered by courier an hour ago." Ron started sobbing again. "Sophia, it must have been me! I probably put the wrong address on the form. This is all my fault, that's why Mario is so angry." "It's not your fault!" Sophia snapped, her eyes fixed on me. "And it's not a big deal! He has no right to be angry over something like this. Mario, your mind is just so dirty, you see filth everywhere you look!" So now I was the dirty one? 3 Honestly, when I first found out, alongside the anger, there was a wave of relief. Because I didn't love her anymore, I didn't truly care. But her complete and utter lack of shame… that was starting to genuinely piss me off. "Enlighten me," I asked, my voice dangerously calm. "How exactly is my mind dirty?" "The baby is Ron's," she said, "but it was done through IVF. We never did anything." "And?" I prompted, on the verge of laughter. "What do you mean, 'and'?" she shot back. "Mario, do you have any compassion at all? Ron's family has been putting immense pressure on him because of his orientation. He wanted a child of his own to appease his parents. We grew up together! It was my duty to help him! Or would you rather just watch him suffer under all that pressure?" She spoke with the righteous indignation of a saint who had just performed a great miracle. I laughed again, a harsh, humorless sound. She really was something else. The logic was breathtakingly twisted. "Sophia, we've been married for seven years, and you refused to have a child with me. Just tonight, you announced to the entire world that no man was worthy of you carrying his child. But as you said those words, you were already carrying another man's baby." I smiled coldly. "Where is your shame?" She glared at me. "See? This is still about me not giving you a baby! You're so childish, Mario. I am so disappointed in you!" "Alright, that's it," I said, holding up my hands. "I'm done. I'm not going to waste my time trying to reason with insanity." I waved a dismissive hand. "I'll have the divorce papers drawn up as soon as possible. And you need to be out of this house." As I turned to leave, Ron started crying again. "Sophia, if you get a divorce, our baby will be born into a single-parent home!" He was clearly hoping she would turn to him, declare she'd marry him instead, and solve the "problem." But instead, Sophia grabbed my arm again, her eyes filled with that familiar disgust. "Mario, stop this nonsense. You heard him. If we divorce, this baby won't have a father. You can't be that heartless!" "So what's your plan?" I asked, wanting to pry open her skull to see what was inside. "We stay married, and I help you and Ron raise your baby?" Ron, ever the helpful one, chimed in. "You don't have to worry, Mario. After the baby is born, I'll come over often to help take care of it." "And the four of us will live happily ever after?" The sheer absurdity of it was making me giddy. He actually nodded. "Wouldn't that be nice, Mario?" "Nice for who?" I finally snapped. "Are you an idiot? Do you think I am? What normal man would be okay with his wife carrying another man's child?" I wrenched my arm from Sophia's grasp and strode toward the door. "Mario, that is so classless! How could you use that kind of language?" she shrieked, grabbing me again. I turned, my voice dropping to an icy whisper. "Sophia, we're adults. Have some dignity. Get your affairs in order for the divorce." Then I walked back to where Ron was still kneeling, took one look at his smirking, tear-streaked face, and drove my fist into it. There was a sickening crunch as blood exploded from his nose and mouth. He collapsed, howling in pain. "That," I said, looking down at him, "was a warning. Don't push me." I leaned in closer. "If I were you, I'd take your little tramp and build a life together. But stay the hell away from me." I turned to walk away. "Mario, you're crazy! You can't just hit people!" Sophia screamed, clawing at me. "And who are you calling a tramp? I'm your wife!" My hand moved on its own, a sharp crack echoing in the silent room as my palm met her cheek. She stumbled back and fell to the floor, stunned. "Listen to me, Sophia. When I loved you, I tolerated a lot. But I don't love you anymore. So you need to take a good long look at yourself, and maybe you should remember exactly how we got together in the first place." For the first time, she seemed to realize I was serious. The disbelief in her eyes was replaced by a flicker of genuine fear. 4 I left the house and drove to my penthouse apartment near the office. I'd owned it for a while but rarely stayed there. After a quick shower, I threw myself into my work. The firm had a massive project in the pipeline, and the final blueprints were due. In the past, a fight with Sophia would have left me emotionally crippled, unable to focus. But now, with the love gone, all I felt was a sense of liberation. I worked through the night, finishing the project just as the sun came up. After a few hours of sleep, I headed to the office. A project this big required a final presentation to the board of directors. I was in the middle of my report when the boardroom door was thrown open with violent force. Sophia marched in, followed by Ron and a dozen security guards. Ron was wearing a tailored suit, the effeminate act replaced by an air of smug superiority. He pointed a finger at me, his voice ringing with authority. "Mario, you're fired. Get out. Now."
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