I had been hooked up to an IV drip for two hours at the hospital, but when I came out, Lionel’s car was nowhere in sight. 

I felt miserable, and unable to bear it any longer, I took a cab home. 

My phone died soon after. 

That’s when it hit me—he hadn’t come to pick me up. 

Once, he had been so attentive to me. 

When had he started pulling away, growing distant and cold? 

“You blocked me so I couldn’t call you,” I said flatly. 

Lionel blinked, his anger fading slightly from his handsome face. 

“I figured you’d be hungry, so I brought you some supper. Beef stew and some hash browns.” 

I looked at the bowl in his hand. 

It was just some watery soup with a few chunks of beef in it. 

It looked more like leftovers from someone else’s meal. 

Half an hour ago, I saw Sandra’s post on Instagram. 

The picture showed Lionel in the kitchen, stirring the stew: 

[Who says there are no good men in the world? Not only did he teach me to drive a stickshift, but when I was hungry, he made me some beef stew. It smells so good!] 

I stirred the stew and a wave of nausea came over me. 

“Throw it away. I don’t want it.” 

Lionel’s face darkened instantly. 

“What’s the problem now? I went out of my way to bring you supper, and you want me to throw it away just like that?” he asked. 

“Is it because I transferred the house to Sandra that you’re upset? But I never said you couldn’t stay there. 

“Her child now has a place to stay and go to school, so she thanked me on Instagram. 

“And you? You go on there leaving passive-aggressive comments. Don’t you think I have a right to be angry?” 

Fresh from a miscarriage and dealing with an injured leg, I was drained—physically and emotionally. 

“You misunderstood me. I was just confused because why would the property deed she posted have our home’s address on it?” 

Lionel cut me off, his impatience rising. 

“Misunderstood you? Sandra’s right. You’re exactly like she said! 

“You’re always flying off the handle, with no grace or tolerance. Every time I talk to another woman, you get paranoid! I think there’s something wrong with you!” 

In the past, I would have argued back and tried to make him understand. 

Now, I just stared coldly at him. 

“Are you done? Could you turn off the lights for me?” I asked calmly. 

He glared at me, slammed the door shut, and left. 

A few seconds later, I heard the front door slam shut. 

It had been a pattern with him that whenever we argued, he would go and stay at Sandra’s and I would spend the whole night tossing and turning, unable to sleep. 

That night, I slept soundly and comfortably. 

The next day, I contacted a friend and consulted a lawyer about initiating divorce proceedings. 

Lionel had been absent for the past three days since he left. 

The next time I saw him was in a photo posted by his friend, Harry Stewart, from a trip. 

In the group photo, Lionel was standing beside Sandra. They were both wearing matching outfits. 

Sandra’s smile was radiant. 

I silently hit “like.” 

Predictably, Lionel immediately returned my call. 

“I’ll pick you up later and take you to the beach to meet my friends.” 

He paused, then added, “I don’t have to invite you, but since you’ve been behaving well lately, I thought it’d be a good way to reward you.” 

“Okay,” I said without enthusiasm. 

The divorce proceedings were underway, and I didn’t want to stir things up with him. 

True to his word, Lionel came to pick me up. 

Oddly enough, Sandra—the drama queen—was nowhere to be seen. 

When we arrived at the beach, Harry greeted me warmly. 

“I organized our last outing. My fault for not giving you a heads-up. I’ll have three shots to make up for it,” he said with a wink. 

Harry’s friendly apology helped put me at ease in front of the others. 

I forced a smile. 

“Things have been busy at the company lately, I’ve been working nonstop,” he explained. 

“By the way, I heard you’ve convinced several of your top talents to open another branch in Amazonite. Congratulations!” 

I smiled politely. 

“That’s the plan, but whether it succeeds or not is still uncertain.” 

Just then, Lionel strode over, his gaze fixed on me. He looked displeased about something. 

“You’re going to Amazonite? Why didn’t you tell me? Did I give you permission to go?” 

I turned and silently watched his angry expression. 

The atmosphere around us became awkward once again. 

Lionel continued accusing me, as Harry tried to smooth things over. 

He gave up and finally suggested we make our way to the barbecue area. 

While Lionel sat beside me, the men quickly set up the grill. 

For the first time, his usually composed face showed signs of panic. 

“I promised Sandra that when her child graduates from elementary school, I’ll transfer the house back to you. 

“You don’t have a right to be so upset. It’s my house, and I don’t have to explain anything to you.” 

“Oh,” I said and nodded calmly. 

Not long after, a familiar, striking figure slowly walked toward us, and my smile instantly faltered. 

A young man, one I had never seen before but who was close to Harry and Lionel, stood up excitedly and waved toward Sandra. 

“Hey, Sandra, Lionel’s over here. Come on over!” 

I could almost hear the sharp intake of every breath in the vicinity.