I sighed, my heart sinking. “Sarah, be
reasonable. After everything that’s happened,
how can we go back? Just…let it go.”
“What’s happened? I haven’t done anything
wrong! I just wanted a child with good genes!
I haven’t cheated! What’s the big deal?”
I raised my hand, stopping her mid–sentence.
As I did, I saw the bright red stain spreading
on my shirt sleeve. The infection was back.
Sarah’s face paled. She grabbed her keys.
“We’ll talk later. Let’s get you to the
hospital.”
I stepped back. refusing her help. “No.
く
thanks. Wouldn’t want to trigger another one
of your…brother’s…migraines. Medical
resources are precious, you know.” I looked
her in the eye. “Whether you sign or not, this
divorce is happening. Goodbye, Sarah.”
I left the hotel, went to the hospital, and never
looked back. It wasn’t my home anymore.
I took my meager savings and went to Chris’s
hometown, staying at his cousin’s farm,
recovering for months. My arm healed, but my
heart remained numb. I asked Chris to find a
lawyer to file for divorce. Separation first,
then the official proceedings. I didn’t want
anything. I had nothing left.
Three months later, Chris called, his voice
heavy with guilt. My stomach dropped. He
told me what happened after I left. Sarah and
Ethan had a massive fight. She kicked him
out of the company, and he fled back
overseas. Apparently, word of the birthday
debacle had spread through their social
circle. Everyone had been congratulating
Ethan on his good fortune, marrying the
boss’s daughter. Someone, jealous perhaps,
had leaked his dirty laundry: his fake
credentials, his criminal record, his drug use,
everything.
I felt nothing. “Their mess. Not my problem.” I
asked Chris what he felt guilty about.
He confessed his wife, eager to impress a
client, had told Sarah where I was.
I sighed. “Chris, it’s okay. Tell your wife we’re
even.” I remembered the state I’d left his
apartment in, and I couldn’t bring myself to
Before I could process any of it, Sarah
appeared, backlit by the setting sun.
I smiled. “Like it here? I’ll leave.”
She grabbed my sleeve. “Mark, please don’t. I
was wrong. So wrong.”
“I’ve…ended things with Ethan……..
I cut her off. “That’s your business. We’re
over.
“But I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been
thinking about all the good times…come
home, Mark. Let’s start over.
I shook my head. “Sarah, you still don’t get it.
If you truly love someone, you don’t look
down on them. You don’t refuse to have their
く
children, choosing someone else’s ‘superior‘
genes instead.”
She was speechless.
I touched my chest. “But it doesn’t matter
anymore. Whether it was gratitude or love,
whatever it was…I don’t feel it anymore. And
if I don’t love you, I’m setting you free. We’re
done.”
I picked up my bag, brushed past her, and
boarded a bus, destination unknown, ignoring
her sobs. I felt…free.
A year later, the divorce was finalized.
Years passed. I started over in a new city,
writing about my past, my experiences.
Somehow, people connected with my stories,
<
and I could make a living. One of my readers
became my wife. She had a gentle smile that
melted the ice around my heart. I loved her. I
wanted to grow old with her.
But there was one secret I never told her,
even when she asked, twice, out of curiosity.
Every time I published a new book, a reader
with the username “Freedom From Love”
would donate a large sum of money, then
disappear, never commenting, never
interacting.
I looked at my wife, her smile warm and
genuine. It was time for a new pen name.
Goodbye, Sarah. I’m free.
