The Man Left Behind in His Own Marriage

I spent the whole day in the hospital, and Serafina never came.

The next morning, after handling my own discharge, I passed the VIP ward and saw the kind of scene that made pain feel physical.

My mother and sister were with Lucian. One fed him fruit. The other turned on the television and picked one of his favorite comedies. Serafina stood beside his bed, speaking with his doctor, her expression grave.

Then Lucian tugged at her sleeve and pointed to a box of chocolates on the table. She unwrapped one and fed it to him.

I stopped walking.

They looked like a family.

I looked like the outsider.

The sight dragged up an old memory. Years ago, Lucian and I were both hospitalized with pneumonia. My mother and sister stayed by his bed, fussing over every detail. I was left alone in a cold room down the hall. No one noticed when my lips cracked from thirst until a nurse came in and gave me water.

That kind of neglect had followed me my whole life.

Only after I married Serafina did I learn what it felt like to be cared for. She noticed everything. What I liked. What I avoided. What I needed before I asked. I had believed I was the one person she chose above everyone else.

I had not expected her to be so gentle with Lucian too.

I turned away, wiped my eyes, and went home.

The moment I stepped inside, I called my university advisor and told him I was ready to accept the sealed research position at the Nordic Institute. Ten years. No return.

He went quiet for a moment, then said he would make the arrangements and get me on the earliest available flight.

Before hanging up, he told me I should say goodbye to my family. I did not tell him I had no intention of doing that.

I had barely ended the call when Serafina came back.

She slipped an arm around my waist from behind and asked, “What were you booking?”

I forced myself to stay calm. “An opera ticket I bought before I was admitted. I missed it, so I asked for a refund.”

“I see.” She studied me for a second. “Then why did you leave the hospital on your own? I went back to your room and thought something had happened.”

I was about to answer when the bedroom door opened.

Lucian walked in.

“Cassian, that was thoughtless of you,” he said with a mild smile. “You should have told Serafina you were being discharged. She went to your room, saw you were gone, and nearly panicked.”

He stepped farther inside. “You know who she is. There are always people watching her. For all she knew, one of her enemies might have taken you.”

I looked at him.

He had always been good at this. A few soft words, and somehow I became the unreasonable one.

I glanced at Serafina. She spoke before I could.

“Lucian’s still weak,” she said. “The doctor wants him somewhere quiet for a few days. The house is secure, so I told him to stay here.”

Lucian smiled at me, all apology on the surface and triumph underneath.

“Sorry to intrude on your time with Serafina.”

He was waiting for me to react. That had always been his game. Push me until I lost my temper, then stand back and let everyone call me petty.

This time, I only said, “Stay as long as you want.”

For a moment, the smile on his face faltered.

The rest of the day, Serafina personally arranged everything for him. She told the staff how to prepare his room, what he could eat, what he should avoid. She knew his habits as well as she knew mine.

That realization should not have hurt as much as it did. But it did.

That night, I went back to my room early and began packing.

Clothes. Documents. Medication. My laptop. A few things that actually belonged to me.

I was almost done when Serafina came in carrying a glass of warm water and a bottle of pills. She unscrewed the cap, tipped the tablets into her palm, and handed them to me.

“Take these before you sleep,” she said. “Your leg still isn’t healed properly. If you skip them, the pain will wake you up again tonight.”