Chapter 4

A few days later, an anonymous padded envelope arrived in my mail.

Inside was a stack of candid photos of Julian and Chloe.

At the mall, he was carrying her shopping bags, leaning down to listen to her giggle with a gentle smile on his face.

At a coffee shop, she reached up to straighten his collar, and he didn't pull away.

Outside her college dorms, she had her arms wrapped around him, leaning into his chest.

And the last one, taken beneath the dim lights of an old apartment building: Chloe was on her tiptoes, her face inches from his lips.

The angle made it look like a passionate kiss.

My hands and feet went numb.

This wasn't "looking out for an orphan."

They had crossed every line in the book.

I spread the photos out across the coffee table and waited for him to come home.

Miraculously, Julian got off work on time today.

He pushed the door open, looking relaxed, even smiling when he saw me.

"Scarlett, what do you feel like for dinner tonight? We could..."

The words died in his throat.

His eyes locked onto the glossy prints on the glass table.

The blood instantly drained from his face.

"Where... where did you get these?" he rasped out.

"Does it matter?" I asked coldly.

"Julian, tell me what this is."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

"It’s not what you think."

He stepped forward, reaching out to touch me, but I recoiled.

"Chloe was... she was having an emotional breakdown that day. She just..."

"She just what?" I cut in.

"She just needed you to hold her? She just needed to kiss you?"

"She didn't kiss me!" he defended himself frantically.

"I pulled away!"

"So the rest of it is true." A bitter smile spread across my face.

"Scarlett, please, listen to me." Pain contorted his features.

"Chloe... she might be getting a little too attached to me, but I swear on my life I don't feel that way about her!"

"I swear, you are the only woman I love."

"I just... I don't know how to push her away."

"Her dad died because of me! Whenever I look at her, all I see is her father covered in blood on that concrete floor!"

Here it was again. The debt of gratitude.

Every single time.

He used guilt to muzzle me and duty to hijack my emotions.

"So you're using our marriage to atone for your sins?"

I asked quietly.

"It's not atonement! It's responsibility!" he snapped, his voice edged with the cornered fury of a trapped animal.

"Scarlett, why can't you just understand me?"

"If I understand you, who understands me?"

Tears finally spilled over my lashes.

"Julian, I am your wife."

He froze, clearly caught off guard by my tears.

In seven years of marriage, outside of our wedding vows, this was the very first time I had ever wept in front of him.

Panic took over, and he clumsily tried to wipe my tears away.

"Scarlett, don't cry. I was wrong, I know I messed up."

"I'll set boundaries from now on. I'll keep my distance from Chloe, okay?"

"Please, let's stop fighting."

His apology sounded so hollow, so pathetic.

"How are you going to keep your distance?" I looked at him through blurred vision.

"One phone call, and you'll run to her."

"One shed tear, and your heart will break for her."

"Julian, you can't do it."

"I can!"

He grabbed my shoulders, desperation bleeding into his voice.

"Just give me one chance! I swear I can!"

I looked into the eyes that once held only my reflection, now clouded with panic, guilt, and turmoil.

"Julian."

I sniffled, forcing my voice to remain calm.

"Let's get a divorce."

His grip tightened painfully before he stared at me in total disbelief.

"What did you say?"

"I said, we're getting a divorce," I repeated, enunciating every syllable.

He let go of me as if burned, stumbling back a step.

"No, absolutely not! I won't agree to this!"

"Scarlett, over something so small, you want to throw away seven years? Does our marriage mean that little to you?"

"The only thing that has no value here is you," I replied, my heart officially turning to ash.

"You're the one who dragged our marriage through the dirt."

He stood frozen, his skin gray.

Right at that moment, his phone began to chime.

A distinct ringtone. A custom tone set for only one person.

Chloe.

He looked at the buzzing phone like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline, but he didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked at me with pleading eyes.

"Scarlett..."

The ringtone droned on, stubbornly piercing the suffocating silence of the room.

Seeing him struggle like that was almost comical.

"Answer it," I said flatly.

"Maybe she has another emergency."

He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen.

The chime continued.

In the end, he tapped the green button.

He turned his back to me and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Hello? Chloe, what's wrong?"

Listening to that tender, cautious tone, and watching his turned back,

the very last spark of warmth inside me died.

I knew that was his answer.

The moment he pressed accept,

our fate was sealed.

From the speaker, Chloe’s tearful, frantic voice leaked through, sharp and hysterical:

"Julian... I-I'm pregnant... What do I do...?"