The Divorce Diaries

That night, after I took my meds, I lay in bed, half-asleep and groggy.

Clement walked in, holding a bowl of mutton stew.

"Madison said you skipped dinner, so she borrowed the hotel kitchen and made this to warm you up," he said. "She even cut herself while slicing the mutton. Have a taste and stop being mad, okay?"

The strong smell of mutton filled the entire room, making me sick.

Clement acted like he didn't even notice and kept trying to shove the bowl closer to my mouth.

The more I smelled it, the more nauseous I felt. I raised my hand and pushed it away.

Some of the soup sloshed out and spilled onto the blanket.

Clement's face tightened, and his voice turned cold.

"What is it now? We've already apologized about the avalanche. What more do you want?

"Enough already. Stop pulling that long face."

He sounded so impatient, as if I were being unreasonable for no reason.

I looked at the soiled blanket and sighed. "I hate mutton."

Without missing a beat, he said, "So what? You don't like it, but that doesn't mean you can't eat it. It's good for your health. A couple of bites won't kill you. And Madison made it herself. She was trying to be thoughtful."

As he stood there justifying everything, my thoughts drifted.

Madison loved to cook, but she was honestly terrible at it.

On the third day of our honeymoon in Svalmere, I wanted to eat at a nice restaurant. Madison didn't want to come along, so I asked Clement to go with me.

We were halfway there when Madison called, saying she was scared to be alone at the hotel.

Without hesitation, Clement turned right around to go back.

He gave me two choices: I could either go back with him or go to the restaurant ten miles away on my own.

It was ridiculous. This was our honeymoon, but I couldn't even choose where to eat.

I looked at the steaming bowl of stew and, without another word, dumped the whole thing into the trash.

Then I looked straight at him and asked calmly, "There. The stew is gone. That good enough for you?"

Clement stood there, blank-faced.

I ignored him and reached for my phone to call someone to change the bedding.

All of a sudden, he snatched the bowl from the table and hurled it against the wall. It shattered with a loud crash, pieces flying everywhere.

"I can't believe I never realized how dramatic you are!"

Then he stormed out, and the room fell silent again.

-

The next afternoon, there was a knock at the door.

It was the hotel butler, politely informing me that my room was due for renewal.

I frowned and told him that my travel companion was in charge of those arrangements.

He kept smiling politely.

"If you're referring to Mr. Norman and Ms. Bowen, they actually checked out earlier today. I believe they've already flown to their next destination. Unfortunately, they didn't extend your room reservation."

Just like that, the hotel cleared my room.

I dragged my luggage and sat in the lobby's guest lounge. Over an hour later, I finally managed to get Clement on the phone.

His voice came through, smug and casual. "Consider this your lesson. You ruined the whole trip because of your attitude. You blow everything out of proportion. Madison's right—hanging out with a negative person like you is bad for me."

My throat felt bone-dry, and I was lost for words for a while.

"Are you out of your mind? Do you even hear yourself?" I yelled.

"Of course I do," he said. "You deserve this. If you want me to come and get you, record a video apologizing to Madison and post it online. Otherwise, forget it."

Then he hung up.

I sat on that hotel couch for a long time, staring out the window as the snow kept falling.

I'd met Clement back in college. He was a year younger than I was.

Normally, I wasn't into younger guys. But back then, Clement was like sunshine—warm and bright.

When I was struggling, stuck in a dark place, he was the light that helped me breathe again.

During my internship, a creepy coworker kept harassing me. Clement would walk me home every single night.

Later, when a landlord scammed me out of rent, he brought his law school friends and stood up for me.

Little by little, he broke through every wall I'd built around my heart.

So, how did someone who once felt like the sun turn so cold so fast?

I didn't have an answer. Honestly, I didn't want one anymore.

I wiped away my tears and forced myself to think clearly.

My passport and bank cards were missing. Clement had probably taken them.

I started calling friends back home.

It took three days, but I finally boarded a flight back.

The moment I landed, I threw my arms around my best friend waiting at the airport.

"I'm getting a divorce."