At dinner, my son asked my husband in German, "Dad, when are you going to divorce Mom and marry Miss Elena?" Julian kept peeling the shell off my egg, his expression perfectly calm as he answered in German, "That depends on when your Miss Elena agrees to my proposal." My son rolled his eyes. "Then you'd better step it up. I don't want to call the witch 'Mom' anymore." I kept eating breakfast. My eyes burned. Julian tensed the moment he saw. "What's wrong, Viv?" I shook my head. "Nothing. Just choked on the egg." But the egg he'd peeled for me sat untouched on my plate. The tears came because I understood every word they said. … Julian must have forgotten. I minored in German during my master's program and finished top of my year. He only took that class because he was trying to get close to me. Now he was watching me with that worried look. "Feeling better, babe?" I nodded absently and reached for my glass of milk. Before I could bring it to my lips, Julian snatched it away. "It's gone cold. Let me heat it up for you." I watched him walk away. I couldn't reconcile the man who cared for my every need with the man who had already given his heart to someone else. My son rolled his eyes. "Dad, you're going to spoil her until she can't do anything for herself." I couldn't tell if he was teasing or mocking me. Julian ruffled his hair. "One day you'll have a wife of your own, and you'll be even worse than me." "Besides, if I didn't love your mom this much, where would you be?" My son said nothing. Maybe he was marveling at his father's acting skills too. I married Julian fifteen years ago, when I was twenty. The year after our wedding, I quit my job and followed him abroad to build his career. That same year, our son was born. For fifteen years, I devoted myself to this family. I had no career left, no circle of my own. I lived for the two of them. And now my husband had betrayed me, and my son despised me. I had almost forgotten who I used to be: top of my class, fluent in six languages. Julian set the warmed milk by my hand. He noticed me staring into space. "What are you thinking about, babe?" I smiled at him. "Just wondering if you're this attentive with other women too." He stroked my hair. "You and your imagination. There's no one else." His voice was tender, his gaze steady. If I hadn't understood their conversation, I'd still be falling for it. Julian took my hand. "Silly girl. I promised you on our wedding day: you're the only one I'll ever love. Don't you believe me anymore?" I smiled back. Of course I believed he meant it when he said it. But words spoken in love only hold while the love lasts. When Julian was chasing me, he wasn't much to look at, and he hadn't made his fortune yet. I was the one everyone wanted. Top of my class, beautiful, accomplished. He worked hard to win me over. In the end, his sincerity got to me, and I chose him. For fifteen years, he took care of me. And then, six months ago, he started sleeping with his secretary. I used to think we'd be happy forever. Now I knew it was time to leave. I didn't confront him. I didn't scream or cry. I prepared to leave in silence, while he suspected nothing. One month. That's how long until my doctoral admission letter arrived. Then I could leave Julian Sterling for good. ---
After breakfast, Julian cleared the table like he always did. "Babe, I actually have some free time today. Let me take you shopping." Our son, home for the weekend, whined about wanting to go camping instead. Julian frowned. "What's the rule in this house? Mom comes first." Watching him lecture our son, I couldn't help but think: without Elena, he might actually be a decent husband and father. But how could I keep believing this act? My phone buzzed on the table. I picked it up. Elena had sent me a photo of her and Julian, faces pressed together. I turned off the screen and said nothing. A few minutes later, she texted again: "Julian has the day off. Who do you think he's going to spend it with—me or you?" I almost laughed. She was the only one who still cared about the answer to that question. Julian walked over and leaned against my chair. "What is it, Viv? Something wrong?" I set the phone face-down. "Spam. It's nothing." Before, I would have shoved the photo in his face and screamed at him. Now I didn't have the energy. I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to slip out of his life without a sound. Julian sensed something was off. He reached for my phone. I pressed my hand down on it. His phone rang. A breathy voice came through: "Julian, come keep me company, pleeeease?" He straightened up and stepped away. I ignored him and went to the bedroom to change. Half an hour later, I came back out. Julian had just hung up. I picked up my bag. "Weren't we going shopping?" He looked me over, guilt flickering in his eyes. "Viv, something came up at the office. I can't go with you." I nodded. "Then go." My easy acceptance seemed to throw him off. I pushed him toward the door. "She's waiting for you. Hurry up, or you'll be late. Work is important." Julian kissed my forehead with a show of reluctance. It made my skin crawl. When he was gone, I felt lighter. I had more important things to do today. My visa had come through, and I needed to pick it up in person. An hour later, I walked out of the government building with a fresh visa in my hand. I felt like I could breathe again. Julian was probably having a good time right about now. Ten minutes ago, Elena had sent me another message: a photo of Julian's bare back in the shower, and a line of text. "Vivian, you lose again." I hailed a cab on the curb. "The mall, please." I didn't need Julian to go shopping. I could buy my own clothes. Most of my wardrobe came from him anyway. If I was leaving, I might as well replace all of it. ---
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