1 In the third year of our marriage, I finally learned where I stood in Jennifer's heart. Her first love, Elliot, was ranked first. Elliot’s depression was second. Elliot’s ragdoll cat, Snowball, was third. I was ranked fourth, right behind the cat. When she flew overseas to accompany Elliot for his medical treatments for two weeks, she hired a professional pet-sitter to drop by and feed Snowball for a hundred and eighty dollars a day. For me, she left a locked basement door and a dismissive note: Just deal with it for a bit. By the fifth day, I was burning with a fever so intense I was delirious. By the tenth day, I had started talking to the voice on my phone. She would cook virtual porridge for me, tell me soothing stories, and sing me to sleep. I asked her once if she was just a hallucination brought on by my boiling brain. She told me no, she had always been there. By the time Jennifer finally returned, my fever had broken. She looked me up and down, her eyes critical. "How did you get better so fast?" "Someone on my phone was taking care of me," I replied. She rubbed her temples, letting out a heavy sigh of irritation. "Silas, grow up. Stop acting childish. I’m absolutely exhausted." I looked at her and smiled. Then, I unlocked my phone, deleted Jennifer from my contacts, deleted our marriage from my future, and walked out of that damp basement. The voice on the phone asked me if I wanted to go home. I stared at the screen, a lump rising in my throat. It had been years since anyone had asked me that. "Who are you calling? What do you mean, home?" Jennifer’s brow furrowed, and she reached out to snatch my phone. I pressed the lock button, slipped the device into my pocket, and stepped out of her reach. "Silas! I just sat on a fifteen-hour flight and came straight here to see you without even stopping for a glass of water, and you're going to give me the cold shoulder?" "I unlocked the basement door, didn't I? How long do you plan on keeping up this pathetic tantrum?" I looked at the dark circles bruising the skin under her eyes. If this had been the old Silas, I would have already rushed to the kitchen to brew her a soothing herbal tea. But looking at her now, her towering sense of entitlement only struck me as sad. "I’m not throwing a tantrum," I said quietly, walking past her to the twin cot to fold my worn blanket. "If you're not, why won't you even look at me?" Jennifer marched over, grabbing my wrist with a firm, tight grip. "Jennifer..." A soft, fragile voice drifted down from the top of the basement stairs. Elliot stood there, dressed in my favorite silk pajamas, cradling his ragdoll cat in his arms. His bare feet looked tiny and pale against the wooden steps. "Elliot, why did you come down here? The basement is damp and freezing. You just got out of the clinic, you shouldn't catch a cold," Jennifer said, immediately dropping my wrist to run up and shield him. "I heard shouting, and I got scared," Elliot whispered, shrinking into her side, his eyes pooling with tears. "We aren't arguing. Silas is just being difficult. He'll get over it in a couple of days," Jennifer murmured, gently patting his back. The ragdoll cat peeked over Elliot’s shoulder, baring its teeth and hissing softly at me. "Silas, I’m so sorry," Elliot said, biting his lip as he looked down at me with puppy-dog eyes. "Jennifer spent the last two weeks with me in Europe to see my therapist. It must have been hard for you, being locked down here alone." "But I really didn't mean to cause this. When my depression flares up, I completely lose control of myself. Jennifer was just terrified I’d do something reckless." "Exactly," Jennifer added, looking down at me from the top of the stairs with cold disapproval. "You know how severe his condition is. You're a healthy, normal adult. What’s the big deal about staying down here for a couple of weeks?" "I gave the house staff a paid vacation, but the pantry was fully stocked. It’s not like I starved you. Why do you have to be so incredibly dramatic?" I looked at the empty water bottles piled in the corner of the basement. The very first day she left, the main water valve to the basement had been shut off. I had survived the worst five days of my fever on half a bottle of stale water. If it hadn't been for the woman on the phone guiding me through the dark, telling me where I had left my old travel bag with a bottle of aspirin, I would have died down there. I didn't bother explaining any of this. Instead, I asked a simple question. "Where are the pastries you brought?" Jennifer blinked, caught off guard. "On the coffee table upstairs. I had my assistant line up at that artisanal bakery uptown to get those almond croissants you like so much." I nodded, stepping past them as I walked up the stairs. The bakery box was sitting on the glass table in the living room. I opened it to find six perfectly dusted almond croissants. Elliot followed close behind Jennifer, whispering softly, "Jennifer, doesn't Silas have a severe tree nut allergy? I thought those croissants were covered in crushed almonds." Jennifer looked at the box, then at me, a brief flash of embarrassment crossing her face. "I didn't think about it when I ordered. My assistant must have grabbed the wrong box." "Silas, don't be so sensitive. Just pick the almonds off before you eat them." I didn't say a word. I picked up the box, walked over to the trash can, and flipped it over. The pastries landed at the bottom of the bin with a quiet thud. "Silas! What is wrong with you?" Jennifer’s voice rose, sharp and angry. "I can't eat them, so they belong in the trash," I said, pulling a tissue from the counter to wipe my fingertips. "Why are you acting so incredibly bitter?" She marched over, gripping my shoulder tightly. "I brought those all the way from uptown. Even if you can't eat them, you don't throw my gesture into the garbage right in front of my face!" "What did you want me to do instead? Build an altar for them?" I asked, looking her dead in the eye. "Meow." The cat in Elliot’s arms let out a sharp cry, leaping from his chest and lunging straight at my face. I put my hands up to shield myself, and its claws tore across the back of my left hand. Three angry red lines welled with blood. Before I could even register the pain, Jennifer had kicked a nearby chair aside, stepping between me and the cat to shield it. "Silas, are you really going to pick a fight with an animal now?" Beads of blood began to drip from my knuckles, splattering onto the pristine hardwood floor. I turned and walked toward the hallway to find the medical kit. "Stop right there!" Jennifer barked. "You terrified Snowball. Apologize to him right now." I stopped, turning slowly to look at her. "You want me to apologize to a cat?" "He’s highly sensitive! You threw those pastries so aggressively, he thought you were going to strike Elliot!" Jennifer said, stroking the cat's white fur to calm it down. Elliot clutched his chest, gasping for air as tears streamed down his face. "Jennifer, don't blame Silas. It's my fault, I shouldn't have brought Snowball down here." "You did nothing wrong. It's his petty, miserable attitude!" Jennifer said, drawing Elliot into her arms. She glared at me, her voice cold and commanding. "Silas, I’m going to count to three. You will apologize to Elliot and Snowball, or you can pack your bags and get out of my house!" "One." I opened the medical cabinet and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic. "Two." I pressed an alcohol pad against the deep scratches. The sting was sharp, but I didn't even flinch. "Three!" Furious, Jennifer marched over and swiped her hand across the counter, sending the entire medical kit crashing to the floor. Cotton balls, bandages, and bottles scattered across the tiles. "You think you're tough, Silas? You think I won't actually throw you out?" She pointed a finger at the front door. "Get out! Pack your things and leave this instant!" "And don't bother trying to use any of my credit cards. I’m locking them all before you even reach the driveway!" She was entirely convinced I wouldn't leave. She thought she held all the cards because I had severed ties with my family and quit my career three years ago to become her stay-at-home husband. But she had no idea I had already decided to leave with the woman on the phone. "Alright," I said, my voice incredibly calm. I bent down, picked up the antiseptic bottle, tightened the cap, and set it on the counter. Jennifer froze, her eyes widening slightly. I walked past the mess on the floor, headed down to the basement, and picked up my canvas tote bag. It held nothing but a few changes of old clothes and my ID. I didn't touch any of the luxury watches or designer items she had bought me over the years. When I walked back up to the living room with my single bag, Jennifer's expression shifted from anger to disbelief. "You're actually going?" She knit her brows. "Silas, stop playing hard to get. Do you honestly think I’m going to chase after you once you walk out that door?" "I don't expect you to," I said, slipping on my sneakers. "Silas, please don't do this," Elliot said, walking over to tug on my sleeve. His fingers gripped my arm, his sharp nails digging painfully into my skin. "It's pouring outside, and you don't have any money. Where will you go? Just apologize to Jennifer." I didn't answer him. I simply pulled my sleeve out of his grasp. "Let him leave!" Jennifer sneered. "I want to see how long his pride lasts without my bank accounts. He’ll be crawling back to this house begging for forgiveness within three days!" I pushed the heavy front door open. Outside, a black Bentley sat idling in the heavy rain. The passenger door opened, and a large black umbrella was hoisted into the air. Maude stepped out, looking effortlessly elegant in a tailored wool coat. She walked down the stone path, tilting the umbrella forward to shield me from the freezing rain. "Silas, I’m here to take you home," she said, her voice warm and steady. Standing in the doorway, Jennifer stared through the rain, her eyes locked onto the woman standing beside me. "Who is that?" her voice trembled slightly. I didn't look back. I stepped down the stairs and into the shelter of Maude’s umbrella. "The person from my phone," I said quietly. Jennifer let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Silas! If you're going to hire an actress just to make me jealous, at least pick someone believable!" Maude smoothly took my canvas bag, resting her hand lightly against my back to guide me toward the car. "Silas, get back here right now!" Jennifer screamed, stepping out onto the porch as the rain began to drench her silk blouse. But she didn't pursue me. Behind her, Elliot let out a weak whimper. "Jennifer, my head... I feel dizzy." Instinctively, she stopped, turning back to catch him before he fell. I sat in the warm leather seat of the car, watching their figures blur in the side mirror as we drove away. I closed my eyes. The car’s heater was running, filling the cabin with a quiet warmth and the subtle scent of cedarwood. Maude pulled a soft cashmere blanket over my lap, her eyes dropping to the bloody scratches on my hand. Her brow furrowed. "Did you clean those?" "Just some antiseptic," I murmured, leaning my head against the headrest. She didn't push for details. Instead, she pulled a small medical pouch from the glove compartment, took my hand, and began to gently clean the wound with an alcohol wipe. She applied a soothing ointment and covered it with a sterile bandage, her movements incredibly light. "What happened these past two weeks, Silas?" she asked softly. "Nothing much," I said, watching the rain streak across the window. "I just realized some things aren't worth holding onto." I didn't tell her that Jennifer had locked the basement door to keep Elliot's cat from making a mess downstairs. I didn't tell her how close I had come to dying of a fever, or how her voice on the phone had been the only thing keeping me anchored to reality. It was over now. "What do you want to eat?" Maude asked, packing away the medical kit. "Some porridge," I said. "Pork and preserved egg. No green onions, please." Maude smiled. "Alright. Let's get you fed." We pulled up to a quiet, high-end private dining club downtown. Maude booked a private room and ordered a warm bowl of porridge along with a few side dishes. As I sat there, letting the warm food soothe my empty stomach, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Jennifer. Who is that woman? I know you're doing this just to get a reaction out of me because you still care. I’m willing to overlook it. But Silas, I am warning you, get back here right now. Elliot’s depression is flaring up because of your behavior, and he’s back on his medication. We have a family dinner tonight. You need to be there. Don't make me look foolish in front of my mother. I didn't reply. I simply blocked her number. "Jennifer?" Maude asked, pouring a cup of warm tea for me. "Yeah," I nodded. "What do you want to do now? Do you want to go back to your hometown?" "No," I shook my head. "I cut ties with my parents to marry her. Going back now would just be embarrassing." "Then stay in Boston," Maude said, her tone absolute. "I have a vacant apartment downtown. It’s fully furnished and close to everything. You can stay there." "Maude, I can't accept that..." "Silas," she interrupted gently, looking at me with a soft smile. "You've called me 'sis' for ten years. Let your older sister look after you for once, okay?" My eyes burned, and a sudden wave of emotion threatened to spill over. Lying in that dark basement, I hadn't shed a single tear, but her simple kindness was nearly enough to break me. "Okay," I whispered, lowering my head to hide my eyes. After dinner, Maude drove me to the apartment. It was spacious, filled with natural light, and stocked with every necessity, including a closet full of brand-new clothes in my exact size. "Get some rest," Maude said, standing by the doorway. "I won't crowd you. Tomorrow morning, I’m taking you to the clinic for a full checkup." "Thank you, Maude." "Rest up, Silas," she said softly, closing the door behind her. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the hot water washed over my thin, pale body, carrying away the grime and exhaustion of the basement, I looked at my reflection in the steamed-up mirror. Three years of devotion. I had finally put the Silas who loved Jennifer to death. The next morning, the clinic results came back. I was suffering from severe malnutrition and a lingering lung infection from the untreated fever. The doctor prescribed a stack of medications and ordered strict rest. On our way back, we walked past a luxury jewelry store. My eyes lingered on a pair of diamond bands in the display case. "Do you like them?" Maude asked, stopping beside me. "No," I said, pulling my gaze away. Those were the rings Jennifer had promised to buy me. For three years, I had worn a cheap silver band. She told me we would get proper wedding rings once her company went public. But when the company finally listed, she told me Elliot was in a fragile mental state and couldn't handle the news of our formal ring exchange. There was always an excuse. When we got back to the apartment, I logged into my cloud drive, pulled up the divorce agreement I had drafted months ago, filled in the date, and signed my name. I emailed the document directly to Jennifer’s personal inbox. On the other side of town, in the spacious living room of the He estate, Jennifer sat on the plush sofa. She stared at her phone, her calls to my number failing to go through. "Jennifer..." Elliot walked down the stairs, dressed in a custom designer suit. It was a piece Jennifer had bought at a high-end auction the previous month, promising to give it to me for our wedding anniversary. "The sleeves are a bit too long. It doesn't really fit right," Elliot complained, adjusting the cuffs. Jennifer looked at him, her expression distracted. "It's fine. I’ll have the tailor adjust it for you." "Is Silas still not back?" Elliot asked softly. "If he misses the family dinner tonight, will your mother be upset?" "Don't mention his name!" Jennifer snapped, throwing her phone onto the table. "I’ve spoiled him. He actually thinks hiring some woman to play a part will make me crawl back to him." "But her car was worth millions," Elliot murmured, testing her reaction. Jennifer let out a cold snort. "It was probably a rental. Silas doesn't have those kinds of connections. He’s just trying to make a point." She stood up, smoothing the front of her blazer. "Let’s go. We don't need him there anyway. It’ll save me the trouble of explaining his behavior to my mother." That evening, the family dinner was held at a five-star hotel downtown. Jennifer introduced Elliot to everyone as her close family friend, and the guests all smiled and nodded politely, keeping their thoughts to themselves. Halfway through the dinner, her assistant hurried over and whispered something in her ear. Jennifer's expression went entirely stiff. She stood up abruptly, walked out to the quiet corridor, and pulled up her email inbox. There, sitting at the top of her list, was a message titled Divorce Agreement. She opened the attachment, her fingers tightening around her phone as she stared at my clean, elegant signature at the bottom of the page. "Silas... do you really think you can just walk away?" she muttered, her jaw clenching. She dialed my number again, but the automated voice only informed her that the line was disconnected. She turned to her assistant, her voice sharp with panic. "Go find him! Find out where he is staying, and track down the owner of that Bentley!" The assistant nodded quickly, terrified by the sudden fury in her eyes. Jennifer leaned against the cold marble wall, trying to steady her breathing. But she had no idea that at that very moment, I was already sitting on a flight bound for Lake Tahoe.
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