Chapter 4

Vivian ran over, yelling at the crowd:

"Call 911! Now!"

But Leo stopped someone from dialing, pulled Vivian aside, and pulled a bandage roll from his backpack:

"Jonathan, you gotta be more careful. Here, press this on your cut."

Vivian froze. She looked at me, face going white:

"Just take care of it. Stop making a scene."

So that was it. With Leo around, even the pretense of being a married couple was too much.

I bit back the pain, stood up, and called my friend. Shawn picked up right away:

"Jonathan? What's wrong?"

I closed my eyes, barely able to speak:

"Shawn, I'm hurt. Need to go to the hospital."

Before I could finish, the room spun. Footsteps rushed over. Everything went black, and I fell into someone's arms.

When I woke up, the doctor said I had glass cuts on my arm that needed stitches and a bruised back that needed rest.

Walking out of the exam room, Shawn was waiting with sunflowers:

"Dude, you're banged up like this and you still wanna divorce? You really over Vivian?"

The numbing was wearing off, making me pale, but I managed a smile.

After seeing who Vivian really was? I didn't want the marriage, let alone anything else.

Six years of marriage felt like one big joke now.

"She did this to herself."

"Whatever you need, I'm in. Since you're sure, our lawyer friend will hook you up. Right, Emma?"

Emma Hayes, standing next to Shawn, nodded:

"Absolutely. She won't get more than she's entitled to."

"I'll draft the papers ASAP, but we should prep for court too."

I thanked her: "I really appreciate this, Emma."

For everything—tonight, the divorce, all of it.

Emma knew what I meant and smiled:

"Anytime."

I took a week of sick leave. Vivian never called. I didn't either.

After the incident, they'd reassigned my project, so my being out didn't matter.

When I went back to file paperwork, I ran into Leo in the hallway.

He blocked my path, smirks all around, eyes daring me:

"Heard you took sick leave. Back already? Thought you were hurt bad—shouldn’t you rest more?"

I turned to him:

"You did that on purpose?"

So his little fall wasn’t just for show? He actually planned to make me trip?

Leo acted shocked:

"Was it that big a deal? Oops. My bad. I just slipped a little. Didn’t think you’d overreact..."

Leo grabbed his cheek where I’d punched him, eyes blazing. Then his face changed—suddenly his eyes got all red and watery:

"Vivian! I was just being nice and he hit me!"

Vivian ran over, checked Leo’s face, then turned to me, totally fed up:

"Jonathan, how long are you gonna keep this up?! Faking sick is one thing, but don’t act out at work! Take your drama elsewhere!"

I saw Leo’s little victory smirk. He mouthed:

"You can’t win. "

I stared at them, then walked away. No looking back.

Trash belongs with trash. Hope they stay stuck together forever.

I went home, made some soup, and crashed in bed.

Being hurt made me tired. Slept till evening.

Felt better, so I ordered a healthy dinner.

Of course Vivian walked in with the delivery guy.

I ignored her, set my plate, and ladled hot soup.

Vivian went straight to the kitchen—old habit, grabbing milk to warm. She saw the food and paused. Put the milk back, voice soft for once:

"Thanks for the soup. "

I moved her hand away, picked up my bowl, and sipped:

"This is mine. Not for you. "

Her hand froze mid-air.

Her face went dark. "Jonathan, you know I have a sensitive stomach. "

“Jonathan, you know perfectly well I have a sensitive stomach.”

I took another sip, warm and good. "I know. "

"That's why I used to cook every night after work—followed nutritionist recipes, made sure it was easy on your stomach. Hoped you'd feel better. "

But what did I get? "

You out with him. "

Me sitting there like an idiot, watching food get cold. "

Just like how I felt about you. "

Burned out. Frozen over. "

I kept eating. "

But that's done. "

"You have Leo now. Let him handle your stomach. "

Vivian stared, jaw tight. Finally, she went to the kitchen and warmed her own milk. No words. "

After dinner, I went to the bedroom. Vivian was already showered, leaning against the headboard—no phone, just grinning like an idiot.

She jumped up when I walked in, got close, and whispered in my ear:

"Let's go to bed early. "

I pushed her away.

She came back, arms around my waist, voice way too soft:

"We haven't... in so long. What if we have a baby? Hm?"

She tried to kiss me. I moved. She got mad, pushed me onto the bed, and started unbuttoning my pajamas.

I slapped her.

Vivian's face flashed angry, but she held it in:

"Jonathan, you're my husband! What's wrong with wanting a baby? Fine, be mad about Leo—but enough is enough!"

I looked her in the eye. "

Vivian, I want a divorce. "

"If you want a baby, find someone else. I'm sure there's a line. "

Vivian stared, like she couldn't believe it. "

What did you say? Say that again, you—?!"

"I want a divorce. "

Vivian just stood there. Then she laughed, bitter. "

You sure about this? "

I held her gaze. "

Absolutely. "

She got off the bed, got dressed. Smirking. "

"What new game is this? Some internet trend? Aren't you tired of this act?"

She slammed the bedroom door so hard the walls shook.