I’m a simple, honest woman. And I married the city’s biggest player. A year later, he started coming home later and later, the look in his eyes growing colder with contempt. Then I overheard him on the phone. “A plain woman like her? What makes you think she could ever tie me down?” I let out a long, slow breath of relief. Perfect. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had a good reason to ask for a divorce. That’s the thing about honest people like me—we always have to think of others first. 1 It was the middle of the night when Finn, who had been gone for two months and missed our first wedding anniversary, finally came home. I was in a deep sleep when I was roughly rolled over. Before my face was shoved into the pillow, I caught the sharp, cloying scent of perfume. It was loud and aggressive, just like Finn himself. Except this was a woman’s perfume. I struggled to turn my head, my eyes landing on a face so handsome it didn't have a single bad angle. His Adam’s apple, prominent and sharp, bobbed as he swallowed. His eight-pack was a fortress of sculpted muscle, the V-lines of his torso disappearing into the shadows below. His eyes burned with a raw, primal lust, a fire meant to consume me. No wonder the tabloids had crowned him “Most Eligible Bachelor” for five years running. But when his eyes focused on my face, the fire flickered. The initial blaze of his desire cooled, though it was clear he had no intention of stopping. Every point of contact between our bodies felt like it was trapped under a spotlight, raising goosebumps on my skin and triggering a desperate, primal urge to flee. I forced a breathy moan. “Honey…” I cooed, pitching my voice into a syrupy, annoying whine. “Honey, you’re back early,” I chirped, faking a girlish excitement. “I missed you so, so much. I was thinking about you so hard I couldn’t even eat dinner.” That did it. The last embers of his interest died out completely. He stopped, rolled off me, and reached for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. “Are you a child?” he grumbled, his voice laced with irritation. “You can’t feed yourself?” I let out a silent sigh of relief, brushing off his question with the ridiculous excuse that I was simply too lovesick to function. Logically, a man like Finn, who had navigated a sea of women, should have seen through my act in a second. But who was I to argue with my own stellar performance? For three years, I had played the part of the devoted, love-struck fool. I’d watched him cycle through a revolving door of girlfriends, my adoration seemingly unwavering. Finn himself once said I was the most persistent, longest-lasting lapdog he’d ever seen. I drifted back to sleep as he went to the balcony to smoke. The faint murmur of his voice on the phone reached my ears. “Finn, man, where have you been? Did you finally settle down for the wife?” Finn scoffed. “A plain woman like her? What makes you think she could ever tie me down?” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “Honestly, that first time, I almost couldn’t bring myself to kiss her.” The person on the other end of the line roared with laughter. “Keep it down,” Finn snapped. “It’s the middle of the night. People are sleeping.” Just as I was about to slip completely into sleep, Finn came back inside. He placed a small box on the pillow beside my head. I forced my heavy eyelids open. Inside was a pair of diamond earrings. They were beautiful. They would have been even more beautiful if I hadn't already seen the matching necklace from the same collection, which cost ten times as much, and didn't know these were just the free gift that came with it. But I wasn't angry. Not in the slightest. In fact, a flutter of anticipation stirred within me. It had been a year. A whole year since our wedding, during which Finn had played the part of a reformed man. But finally, he was starting to crack. And so was I. 2 I may be a simple woman, but I have an eye for beauty. I’m average-looking myself, but I’ve always had a thing for handsome men. The thought of an unattractive man grunting on top of me is enough to make me want to die. I’ve worked my ass off my whole life. I knew from a young age that with my looks and lack of connections, no handsome man would ever give me a second glance. I did well enough on my SATs, but it wasn’t enough. In a world of Ivy Leaguers, a degree from anywhere else is basically worthless. A master's wasn't enough, so I got a Ph.D. With my earnest, trustworthy face and my unwavering obedience to my advisor, I graduated with honors and landed a position at a top-tier research institute. I thought I had finally made it. But the first time I saw Finn, I knew it still wasn't nearly enough. So I endured boozy dinners with my superiors, went back to the office to work late, and spent my weekends writing papers for their kids. Finally, at an age where most are just starting out, I clawed my way into a senior management position. And then, I was finally worthy of pursuing Finn. During my pursuit, people tried to set me up on dates. I went. And every single one of them only strengthened my resolve to win Finn over. After each disastrous blind date, I would find an excuse to see him, just to cleanse my palate. One time, at two in the morning, he happened to need a designated driver. I dropped everything and went. “You’re really that into me?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked. In the passenger seat of his convertible, a stunningly beautiful woman was passed out drunk, her silk dress slipping off one shoulder. I nodded, my gaze unwavering. Because I do not have a fetish for ugliness. “Finn,” I said, my voice full of feigned emotion. “I love you.” Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say. I think that saying is meant for this. To love beauty itself. If it just meant loving to dress yourself up, that would be far too shallow. I love myself no matter what I look like. My sudden confession made Finn burst out laughing. The wind whipped through his messy hair, revealing his sharp, handsome eyes, framed by impossibly long lashes. I suspected he’d had work done, but I didn’t care. The slender, mint-flavored cigarette was clamped between his knuckles, and ash trembled and fell to the ground with the vibration of his laughter. “Sadie Chen,” he said, still chuckling. “You’re the first person to make me laugh in a long time.” Yes, even my name is painfully plain. But starting that night, he began to give me a sliver of attention. He went from rejecting ten of my invitations to accepting one or two when he was in a good mood. Sometimes, he would even deign to eat the lunch I brought him. And eventually, we got together. It wasn't some fairy tale where my devotion moved him to change his ways. He was simply tired of the game, and his family was pressuring him to get married. I was highly educated, didn’t run in his wild circles, had a respectable job, and was a picture-perfect homemaker. His entire family loved me. Everyone except him. I didn’t care about the reasons. All I knew was that my nightmares of being married to an ugly man and having ugly children were finally over. The day I posted our engagement photo, I felt a profound sense of triumph, silencing everyone who had ever called me delusional. At our wedding, looking at Finn's face—a literal masterpiece of creation—I was practically delirious with excitement. His abs were a tantalizing outline beneath his crisp white shirt. When the officiant told us to kiss, I “accidentally” brushed against his chest. If I could just tie him up in a diamond harness… The thought alone made my innocent little knees go weak. Finn didn’t suspect a thing. After all, I’m an honest woman. His kiss was perfunctory, all technique and no feeling. I didn’t mind. I could make my own fun. That night, I was so happy I thought I would explode. My heart felt like a sponge saturated with pure joy. I let out a deep, satisfied sigh. The only downside was Finn’s complete lack of interest in my pleasure. I was, after all, probably the plainest woman he had ever slept with. Outside, the streetlights twinkled like man-made stars, a small compensation for a sky that had lost its own. I watched his sleeping face, the corners of my mouth turning up. Those sharp, thick brows, that high-bridged nose, those perfectly shaped thin lips. God, he was beautiful. More handsome than any movie star. Aside from the fact he didn’t love me, he was perfect. Oh well. Nobody's perfect. As long as his face remained intact, I would love him. We honest folk are just that loyal in love. 3 But was what I felt for Finn really love? What even is love? Freud said love stems from a longing to complete ourselves. Jung said great souls are androgynous, that love at first sight is merely falling in love with another version of yourself. So, perhaps I fell for Finn in a quest to become whole. Well, I’m whole now. The next morning, Finn was still asleep when I woke up. His phone screen was lit up with a stream of notifications from profiles with influencer-style names and photos. I didn’t read the messages. I simply plugged his dying phone into the charger. As I stepped over him to get out of bed, his hand shot out and grabbed my ankle. Without opening his eyes, he pulled me down until I was straddling him. “Take care of me,” he rasped, his voice still thick with sleep, a low, impossibly sexy growl. A year ago, I would have pounced on him with glee. But now… I awkwardly climbed off him. “Honey, I have a big meeting with the board today. I can’t be late.” Finn’s expression soured. Before I left, I made sure to add, “I’m going on a business trip for three days. Take care of yourself, okay?” Worried he hadn’t heard me, I sent him a text as well. But I still wasn't reassured. I remembered he had my messages on mute. So, I sent a message to one of his degenerate friends: I’ll be out of town for three days. Please look after Finn for me, thanks! (smiley face) I got to the office on time. That evening, I stayed late to work. My boss even stopped by my desk. “Sadie, the trip was postponed last minute, so there’s no need to rush the prep materials. You should head home early!” “I’ll leave as soon as I finish this file,” I said. Despite my words, I didn’t leave until ten-thirty. At ten-thirty, I opened the security camera app on my phone and watched as a woman knocked on our front door. Finn answered wearing nothing but a pair of sleep pants. The woman seemed to play shy. Finn gave her a quick once-over, then stepped aside to let her in. My foot slammed on the accelerator. Easy, easy, I told myself. Finn’s not that fast. At eleven, I arrived. My hand trembled as I keyed in the security code, fumbling the first attempt. When the door finally swung open, the scene was one of utter chaos. Lace panties, torn stockings… it was a sight that, for an honest woman like me, was a massive shock. But it seemed Finn was even faster than I’d imagined. The bedroom door was flung open, and the naked woman was shoved out into the hallway. “Finn,” she whined at the closed door, “I flew all this way for you! Don’t kick me out so soon. If you like something else, I can…” Her answer was a lacy bra thrown at her head. “I’ve wired you the money for the plane ticket. Now get out,” Finn’s lazy voice drifted from the bedroom. The woman wasn't ready to give up. “If you’re not feeling it with me, I have a friend who’s a total smoke-show. Let me show you a picture! She’s at a club nearby, we could all go…” He emerged from the bedroom, glanced at the photo on her phone, and was about to speak. Then he looked up and saw me. The woman’s voice died in her throat. The apartment fell silent. 4 As the woman was leaving, she called back, “I sent you the address! Come soon!” Finn slammed the door in her face. He turned to me. “You’re back early,” he said, his tone casual, completely devoid of the guilt of a man caught red-handed. “Have you had dinner? What do you want? I’ll order something for you.” His words came out in a rush, more than he usually spoke to me at once. I didn’t answer a single question. Finn went to the coffee table, fumbling in the drawer for his cigarettes. I suddenly remembered a girlfriend he’d had years ago, one he’d really liked. She hated the smell of smoke and told him she didn’t want to breathe his secondhand fumes. He quit for her. But she eventually moved abroad for her career, and they broke up amicably. If they hadn’t, I probably would never have had my chance. He never quit for anyone again, and certainly not for me. But I didn’t want to breathe his smoke either, so I made a habit of throwing out any packs I found. He came up empty-handed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. A few seconds later, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. My eyes were wide open. I saw the look on his face—the grim expression of a soldier marching to his execution. I pushed him away. Finn’s face darkened. He had probably never been rejected by a woman in his life. Certainly not by a plain woman like me. “Who was that woman?” I demanded. “Who do you think?” he shot back, a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “Sadie, have I been spoiling you?” “You were the one who chased me,” he sneered. “You were the one desperate to be with me. You’ve known who I am from day one. You accepted it then, so what’s with all this drama now?” A few tears escaped my eyes, and I laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “I accepted that the man I was pursuing would date other people, break up, and date someone else. But I never said I would accept my husband cheating on me.” My tears fell freely now. Finn’s hand trembled, his expression shifting. But a moment later, he hardened again. “What’s the difference? If you can’t accept it, we can get a divorce.” He said the word “divorce” so lightly, as if he were saying “break up” to any of his ex-girlfriends. He was certain I wouldn’t be able to leave him. That I would cry and beg and fight to win him back, just like all the others. Maybe even more desperately. There was a time I thought so, too. The streetlight outside seemed to be broken. It flickered on and off, looking more like a real star than ever. But I knew that around four or five in the morning, it would shut off completely, a sudden darkness that would jolt you awake. It was worse than Cinderella turning back at midnight; at least she was a genuinely kind and beautiful person to begin with. “Okay,” I said, my voice soft. Finn froze. Before he could process it, I continued. “Finn, let’s get a divorce.”
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