Negotiator's Lie, Wife's Goodbye

But now, Zack said I had tricked him into marrying me. He was even indifferent to my injuries for the sake of Kimberly.

After all these years, I had repaid the kindness, and it was time I let go of him.

I should let him go and allow him to pursue the one he truly wanted. I should let go and end this unequal marriage that had been wrong from the very beginning.

My trembling fingers slid across the screen with difficulty and opened that long-buried email.

It was an offer from the Granite Broadcasting (GBC) International News Department that was extended to me indefinitely.

The date on it was exactly the day three years ago when Zack and I got married.

The glow of the screen shone through the gaps in the bandages, and I suddenly remembered what he had solemnly said to me that day.

"Don't go to the battlefield. It's too dangerous."

Back then, I thought that was the only warmth he had ever shown me, but now I realized it had all been just my wishful thinking.

My burns sent searing pain through me, yet I smiled in relief.

My fingers tapped on the keyboard, and inside the reply box, I wrote, "I accept."

…

Over the next two weeks in the hospital, Zack never once appeared.

My phone was piled up with the messages he had sent.

"There's a kidnapping case to handle today. Get some proper rest."

"I have to go out of town for negotiations tomorrow. Take care of yourself."

But when I turned to Kimberly's social media page, I saw something else.

"Thank you to my personal driver today for picking me up and dropping me off at work."

The picture showed Zack's flawless profile, smiling gently into the camera.

"Mr. Larson said he's taking me to that famous restaurant tomorrow. I'm so happy!"

Every post felt like a knife to me, cutting open my wounds that had yet to heal.

Outside, a nurse knocked on the door and came in to change my bandages. She asked in concern, "Ms. Jones, was that your husband who came with you that day? Why haven't I seen him these days?"

I painfully forced out a smile at the nurse.

"He'll be my ex-husband soon. Whether he comes or not doesn't matter."

The nurse smiled awkwardly at me, then secretly glanced at my bandaged leg and suddenly said, "Actually, I saw your ex-husband in the obstetrics department yesterday. He was accompanying Ms. Harmon for her check-up."

She looked at me with an indignant gaze. "If you ask me, that Ms. Harmon doesn't even have half your grace. Your ex-husband really has no taste!"

Halfway through, she seemed to realize she had misspoken and hurriedly picked up the tray.

I comforted her, "It's okay. I've long gotten used to it."

The nurse tucked in my blanket before leaving and softly said, "Ms. Jones, get some good rest."

As she turned away, I heard her barely audible sigh.

…

After half a month of rest, I handled my own discharge procedures.

My right leg was still wrapped in bandages, and every step sent stabbing pain through me. But compared to the pain in my heart, this was nothing at all.

When I pushed open the long-unseen door to my home, a heavy stench of alcohol hit me.

Wine bottles were scattered all over the living room floor.

Ambiguous sounds came from the master bedroom, and a woman's coy laughter sharply pierced through my eardrums.

I slowly leaned against the wall and moved over. Soon, I saw Kimberly in my silk nightgown, sitting on Zack's lap and feeding him grapes.

Zack's face was flushed. He was clearly drunk.

The housekeeper, Rita Poole, rushed out of the kitchen in a panic. There was still flour on her apron.

"Mrs. Larson, w-why are you back so soon?" She rubbed her hands nervously. "Mr. Larson and Ms. Harmon only drank too much. Nothing happened, I-I can testify…"

I gently patted Rita's trembling hand. "It's fine."

As those words left my mouth, I realized how terrifyingly calm my voice was.

Kimberly provocatively wrapped her arms around Zack's neck, deliberately tugging the strap of the nightgown lower.

Meanwhile, Zack's gaze was unfocused, and his cheeks were unnaturally flushed. He was obviously very drunk.

I walked silently into the bedroom and pulled out the suitcase I had packed long ago from the bottom of the wardrobe.

The wheels made faint noises as they rolled over the scattered clothes on the floor.

"Rene…"

Zack's slurred call came from behind me, carrying a tenderness I hadn't heard in a long time.

My steps faltered, and a fluster rose in my heart. I turned and saw Kimberly's back stiffen instantly.

"Zack!" She quickly leaned close to his ear, her sweet voice tinged with panic. "Were you calling for me? I'm right here!"