Chapter 2

Morning came. As usual, I made breakfast—Sarah’s favorite. She stayed distant, eating silently without a word to me. Felt like I was her maid, not her husband.

After breakfast, I drove her to work. We both worked in sales at the same perfume company, Serenity Scents. After parking, she walked into the building. Once she was out of sight, I quickly told a coworker I’d be out and left the office. I didn’t take my car—instead, I hailed a cab home.

I unlocked the front door, rushed into the living room, and headed straight for the basement. When I got there, I froze. The basement door was different! At some point, it had been replaced with a reinforced door with a combination lock! Without the code, there was no way in!

I pulled out my phone, took a picture of the door, and started looking up how to open this kind of lock.

"What are you doing?!" Sarah suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, yelling. She hadn't trusted me and had followed me home!

She practically ran down the stairs and slapped me hard across the face. "What did I tell you?!"

"You hit me?!" I held my stinging cheek.

She continued to yell, “What did I tell you?!”

I yelled back, "This is my house! Don't I have the right to go in? And you couldn't even tell me you were changing the door?!"

“I was just about to tell you!” She raised her hand, ready to strike again.

I dodged the slap and pulled out my phone. "I'm calling the cops!" My cheek burned, and I was shaking with anger. We'd barely been married, and she was already hitting me? What was going to happen next?!

Sarah panicked immediately, grabbing my hand. “Why are you calling the police?”

"This is my house, why won't you let me in? Why did you hit me just now? Why can't I call the police?!" I insisted on dialing 911.

"Mark, don't get so upset." Her voice softened. "I... I was just acting on impulse."

"You get impulsive, so you hit me?" I pulled my hand away. "Let go! I'm calling the police!"

She grabbed my hand again. "Mark, is calling the police really necessary? If you think this isn't working, we can get a divorce."

Divorce?! Hearing that, I stepped back and fell silent. Things were bad, but I didn't think we were at divorce level yet. Besides, if we split, this house—marital property—would probably get divided, and my parents' investment would go to waste! There was no way I was letting that happen!

"If we get divorced, I'll get half this house," Sarah added. "If you don't want a divorce, we keep things the way they were. Now go back to work."

After thinking it over, I shot her a dirty look and headed upstairs. I had no choice—I couldn't let my parents' savings go to waste!

“Come back!”

I stopped and turned around.

"You disrespected me. Don't you think you owe me an apology? And a promise?" Sarah demanded.

I was so mad I punched the stair railing. Blood started gushing from my hand. I gave her one last angry look and left quickly.

"Mark, what's up? You look terrible." When I got back to the office, my coworker David asked. I mumbled I was fine, sat down, and opened my laptop. My right hand was bandaged, so I had to use my left. I kept my right hand under the desk so David wouldn't see it.

"Hey!" David came over, sat next to me, clapped my shoulder, and winked. "Don't overdo it on the honeymoon, man. You look exhausted." I forced a laugh. If only that were the problem.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, and we've got that team-building thing. It's family-friendly, so they want everyone to bring their spouse or partner," David reminded me. "Missing the main activities could mess with our team's evaluation and bonus."

I didn't care about team-building, but I didn't want to lose my bonus. Sarah, though, loved this stuff—she never missed company events. "If Sarah goes, I'll go," I said.

"I just asked her, and she's not going. If that's the case, you two will lose this month's bonus!"

"I'll go talk to her."

I stood up and walked to the next cubicle area where she worked. I went in and saw her chatting with two female coworkers. Two months ago, there was a hit-and-run right outside our building—some driver hit a few coworkers and took off. They still hadn't caught him. The girls were talking about it casually.

I walked right up to Sarah and quietly asked, “Are you going to the company team-building event?”

“No,” she answered coldly.

I whispered again, "If you don't go, we'll lose our bonus."

"So what if we do?"

"I just don't think we need to throw away money over this—"

"Are you serious?!" Sarah suddenly yelled. "I'm staying home, end of story!"

Her voice echoed through the office, and everything went quiet. All the coworkers stared at me, shocked. My face burned—I wanted to crawl under a rock. She'd just yelled at me like that in front of everyone at work! What else could I say? I hung my head and walked away.

In that moment, all my fantasies about Sarah died.

"Mark, hey, sorry I pushed you about that earlier." When I got back to my desk, David put his arm around my shoulder and apologized quietly.

“It’s fine.”

I suddenly remembered something, picked up my phone, and sent him a picture. "David, you know a lot of people. Can you help me figure out how to open this kind of reinforced combination lock door?" David checked his phone, looked at it for a second, and nodded. "Sure, I know a guy who does this stuff. I'll ask him for you."