I Wish You Well

After everything was done, I felt like all the strength had drained from my body. I collapsed to the floor, hesitating for a long moment before finally calling the number I hadn’t contacted in over a week.

I tried to steady my voice, choking back the tears. “Chris, remember the archaeological dig you mentioned in Riverdale? Do you still need more people?”

A light and teasing voice came through the phone. “Of course! Is the brilliant Tess coming to join us?”

His playful tone made me smile, even though I had just been crying. We agreed to give me a week to sort out things here before heading out.

Chris and I had grown up together, and now he was a key member of the National Historical Artifact Group. Years ago, I had given up the chance to join him on that ancient tomb dig because of Eric. Back then, Eric’s career was taking off, and if I had left for the field, I wouldn’t have been around to support him.

More importantly, Eric didn’t like me working in archaeology. He thought it was dirty and undignified. He wanted his wife to be more like a professor, not someone who worked in tombs. Eric, the great CEO, thought it was beneath him to have a wife who spent her days around ancient relics.

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back my emotions, but the tears came anyway, streaming down like a flood. How much had I sacrificed for someone like him?

I sat on the couch, sleepless through the night. Early the next morning, the door opened.

It was Eric, and he looked pleased with himself. However, as soon as he saw me, his expression soured.

“Why do you look like a ghost?” he sneered.

I glanced at my phone screen, catching a glimpse of my reflection. My face, pale and swollen from crying, still bore the marks of recent surgery, and my eyes were puffy, so yeah, I probably did look a little scary.

As I stood up, intending to head to the bathroom to wash my face, he spoke again, as if trying to make up for his earlier tone. “Hey, could you make that bolognese you made for me last time? I bought all the ingredients.”

He held up the grocery bags, gesturing with a smile.

Numbly, I nodded.

‘Fine.’ I thought, ‘This will be the last thing I ever do for you.’

I busied myself in the kitchen, while Eric, surprisingly, stayed nearby to help. He even started washing vegetables and handing me ingredients, as if he were trying to learn how to make the soup himself.

Then, his phone buzzed, and he wandered off to the other side of the kitchen to grab some spices. Without thinking, my eyes drifted to his phone screen.

It was a message from Grace. [Eric, is the bolognese ready yet? I’m starving.]

The color drained from my face, and my body went cold. So that was why he was learning to make bolognese—for her.

I clenched my teeth, holding back the storm inside me, and coldly called out, “Your phone’s ringing.”

Eric hurried over, clearly flustered. He didn’t even grab the spices he’d been reaching for; he just shoved me aside.

My stomach hit the edge of the marble counter, sending a sharp pain through me. It felt like a thousand needles were stabbing into my belly all at once.

Cold sweat poured down my face as I doubled over, clutching my stomach, praying the pain would subside.

Eric’s face twisted in anger as he barked, “Why were you snooping on my phone? Do you not trust me at all anymore?”

He kept going, ranting, completely oblivious to the agony I was in. My body trembled as I sank to the floor, pale as a sheet.

When he noticed I wasn’t responding, he nudged me with his foot.

“Hey, quit faking it.”

Only when I didn’t move did he realize something was wrong. Fear flashed in his eyes as he crouched down beside me.

“Tess, are you okay?”

I licked my dry lips, barely able to whisper, “Take me to the–”

However, just then, his phone rang again. It was that same ringtone, and his face shifted awkwardly. He glanced at me, torn.

“It’s Grace. She probably has something important to say. I’ll just take this call really quick.”

I let out a bitter laugh. What did it matter what I said? Would my opinion even change anything?