While organizing the walk-in closet, I realized something strange. My husband, Harrison’s, designer suits were gone. I found them all packed neatly into a suitcase hidden in the storage room. Tucked inside was a one-way ticket to Europe for this weekend, along with documents for liquidating his assets and disappearing under a new identity. That night, Harrison carried a life-sized cardboard cutout of himself into our bedroom, wearing a strange, unreadable expression. "Honey, if I ever disappear one day, don't come looking for me." "If you miss me, just look at this standee." I smiled and agreed. "Okay." I watched him secretly pack his bags and plan his escape route with his young, bright-eyed assistant. Then, I turned around and bought a plane ticket for myself—departing exactly one day before him. 1 Harrison stayed in the storage room until past midnight before finally creeping into the bedroom, covered in dust. Seeing me lying in bed, he shifted the cardboard cutout aside and climbed in, wrapping his arm around my waist. "Chloe, are you in a bad mood today?" In the past, I would have clung to him, pestering him to cuddle or complaining that he was up too late. But now, I couldn't summon the energy to care. "No," I replied flatly, trying to turn away. He pulled me back, stuffing a custom pillow printed with his face into my arms. A flash of guilt crossed his eyes as he kissed my forehead. "Babe, if I'm not by your side in the future, just hug this when you sleep." The synthetic fabric scratched against my skin. It smelled like cheap plastic. I moved it to the nightstand, keeping my expression blank. "Okay." My voice choked up, and my heart gave a painful squeeze. The man I had shared my life with for ten years was plotting to abandon me. He was willing to give up his status as a CEO just to run away with his assistant, Lily. And he was doing it all just to get away from me. I didn't dream that night. I was woken up by the sound of crashing dishes in the kitchen. The sky was barely gray. Harrison cherished his sleep. Usually, I was the one up at this hour, happily making him coffee and eggs. Today, he was wearing an apron, humming a tune, frying eggs. On the table sat a perfectly wrapped gourmet sandwich and a travel mug of oat milk latte. A wave of bitterness hit me, and my vision blurred. He was always like this—warm, healing, perfect in the small moments. If I hadn't seen those documents... "Chloe, why are you up so early?" Harrison smiled gently, his eyes full of what looked like love. I composed myself and sat down. I reached for the latte. Slap. He swatted my hand away. Harrison frowned, grabbing the travel mug. He poured the good latte into a pink Stanley cup and wrapped the sandwich in foil. "That's for Lily." "Don't overthink it. I lost a bet at work. My punishment is bringing breakfast for a colleague for a week." Perhaps sensing the shift in my mood, he quickly poured me a cup of the dregs—mostly coffee grounds—and slid a plate of burnt scrambled eggs toward me. "Eat this. I made it especially for you." I lowered my eyes and let out a self-deprecating laugh. Harrison’s face darkened. He looked at me, confused. "It's just breakfast, Chloe. Is it that serious?" "Why the attitude this early in the morning? Don't you know today is the company gala? I'm going to be busy all day." Ignoring his gaze, I said calmly, "Sorry." The air grew heavy. Harrison grabbed the pink cup and headed for the door. Then, he doubled back, hugging me from behind. His voice was coaxing. "I don't blame you. Wait for me tonight. I'll take you to the riverfront to watch the fireworks." I knew what he was doing. He was paving the way for his disappearance this weekend. Alleviating his guilt. Watching the door slam shut, I pulled out my phone. I booked a flight to Portugal. Departing one day before him. Since you want freedom so badly, I’ll give it all back to you. 2 The flight confirmation popped up on my screen. As I stared at it, Harrison called. "Chloe, a handyman is coming over to fix the plumbing and the hallway lights. Make sure you're dressed and leave the door unlocked for him." "If you're scared, FaceTime me." The lights and the sink had been broken for a month. I had asked him ten times to fix them or call someone. He always used work as an excuse. When I suggested hiring a pro, he’d snap at me for wasting money or being incapable. Now, suddenly, he was handling it. It was part of his exit strategy. He was checking off boxes to ease his conscience before he vanished. I leaned against the kitchen island, zoning out. I thought back to when Harrison and I first started dating. We met in college, on the debate team. I remembered the topic clearly: Is Freedom more important than Love? I argued passionately for Love, claiming it conquered all. He was the opposition. He argued that Freedom was the ultimate human need. We met, we debated, we fell in love. He used to carry me on his shoulders at concerts. He rode the carousel with me even though he hated it. He kissed me at the top of the Ferris wheel, promising we’d be together forever. Everyone said we were a power couple. Soulmates. Until yesterday, I believed it too. But our love had eroded over a decade of mundane reality. My affection became "clinginess" in his eyes. My desire to be close became "suffocating." I recently found a photo in his cloud storage. It was a picture of my back while I was cooking. The caption read: Suffocation. My thoughts were interrupted by the handyman knocking. I patted my stiff cheeks and smiled at the worker. "Thanks for coming out. I'll pay you for your time, but you don't need to fix the lights or the water." This house has been broken for so long. There’s no point in fixing it now. 3 When I woke up the next morning, Harrison was sitting with his back to me, knitting. Since last month, he’d been obsessed with yarn textures and YouTube tutorials. Whenever he had free time, he was knitting. I thought he was making a scarf for me. I even posted a sweet photo of his back on Instagram. He made me delete it immediately. His face had turned stormy. "I'm just killing time and practicing. If you want a scarf, I'll buy you cashmere from Burberry." That was when I realized he was using bright pink yarn. Lily’s favorite color. Hearing me stir, Harrison turned around. A flicker of apology crossed his face. "Babe, I got home late last night and you were asleep. I didn't want to wake you. I went to see the fireworks for you. Here’s a video." I’m a light sleeper. I knew he never came into the bedroom last night. But I didn't want to fight. I just glanced at his phone screen. The fireworks were beautiful. The background was filled with embracing couples. Through the noise of the explosions, a familiar, flirtatious voice was captured on the recording: "Boss, will we always be this happy?" "Of course." Harrison realized his mistake. He panicked, locked the phone, and tossed it onto the table. "Just random people standing nearby," he explained nervously. "Don't misunderstand." "Okay." Seeing my lack of reaction, he leaned in to kiss me. Before I could even close my eyes, he pulled a surgical mask out of his pocket and put it on. He pressed a masked kiss to my forehead and pulled away instantly. He laughed awkwardly. "I think I'm coming down with something. Don't want to get you sick." I swallowed the sharp pain in my throat and smiled indifferently. "It's fine." When we first started dating, he couldn't keep his hands off me. He used to say, "I could kiss you for a lifetime and it wouldn't be enough." "What about when I'm old and have dentures?" I’d ask. "Especially then." I guess I’ll never see that day. The house felt emptier. The suitcase he’d hidden was moved to the trunk of his car. Even his toiletries were gone from the bathroom. Seeing me staring at the empty vanity, Harrison looked guilty. "Chloe, don't overthink it. I just took some stuff to the office since I'm pulling so many all-nighters." "Please don't be suspicious." In the past, he would never explain himself over something so small. His panic was a dead giveaway. But I didn't scream. I didn't ask him why he was running away with Lily. I didn't beg him not to abandon me. I just looked him in the eye and whispered: "You work too hard. It must be exhausting." Harrison bit his lip, his eyes darting away. "It's not hard. I'm building a better life for us." He moved to hug me, but the doorbell rang. It was Lily. She was wearing a cute, short dress and holding an English dictionary. She looked past me, staring straight at Harrison. "Boss, I'm stuck on some vocabulary, and I forgot the phrases you taught me." "Can you tutor me right now? Chloe won't mind, right?" Her eyes danced with the arrogance of a winner. I quietly pulled my hand out of Harrison's grip. "Make yourself at home." Harrison looked at my profile. I was too calm. A strange uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He stared at me, looking for a crack. I glanced at him, emotionless, and smiled. "You guys study. I have things to do." He reached for my arm, but Lily grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the study. She locked the door audibly. I was the only extraneous person in my own home. I went back to packing. I picked up a pair of porcelain dolls from the shelf. He gave them to me on our first anniversary. "Chloe, we're going to be happy forever." From the study, I heard Harrison calling my name. I dropped the dolls into the trash can. Listening to the porcelain shatter, I smiled bitterly. There is no forever. 4 I opened the study door. Harrison was holding up a duvet cover. Lily was giggling from underneath it. Harrison’s face was flushed. He smiled and gestured for me to grab the other end. "She says she wants to play 'parachute' like she did in gym class as a kid. Just grab the corners and lift." Even though I expected the worst, the sheer absurdity gave me a headache. Harrison didn't look at me. He assumed I would obey. I felt like I was made of ice. I shook my head. "No." The giggling stopped. Four eyes locked onto me. "Sister, I just missed my childhood... I didn't mean to..." Lily’s eyes filled with tears instantly. "I'm sorry. I know you don't like me. I asked for too much." Before I could speak, Harrison stepped between us, blocking my exit. His voice was low and angry. "I just asked you to lift a blanket. Do you have to have an attitude about everything?" I didn't speak. I just looked at him. "Apologize!" His voice rose, thick with annoyance. "Do you have to make everything so suffocating? If I leave one day and never come back, you'll be the one crying!" Harrison frowned, scanning my face. He was looking for jealousy, for sadness. But he found nothing. He sensed control slipping through his fingers. I turned around and walked out, closing the door gently behind me. The moment the latch clicked, the room erupted in laughter and playful shrieks again. I felt like a rat in the sewer, peeking up at their sunshine. Watching them plan their great escape from me. Tears finally wet my cheeks. 5 When I woke up the next day, Harrison was walking in the front door. He stiffened when he saw me, pulling at the women's cardigan he was wearing. "I spilled wine on my shirt at a team dinner. Lily lent me her jacket." "Don't overthink it. Strictly professional relationship." Professional relationships don't involve eloping. I nodded and didn't ask. In the past, when women's items appeared, I didn't think much of it. But as it happened more often, I realized his "overtime" was just time with Lily. Whenever I cried and demanded answers, he would sigh. "Why are you so sensitive?" A bitter smile touched my lips. His flight was tomorrow. My flight was in twelve hours. "Chloe, tomorrow is our anniversary. Let's celebrate tonight. I booked that Italian place you like." He folded the pink cardigan with reverence while watching me. His eyes held a strange mix of reluctance and nostalgia. I didn't ask why. I couldn't even bring myself to refuse. I nodded. Since I was leaving, we might as well use this last meal to end ten years of entanglement. I sat quietly in the passenger seat. Harrison kept glancing over at me. "Chloe, you're acting weird lately." "Did you... find something?" His face paled, tension radiating off him. I shook my head. "No. Just cramps. I'm tired." He relaxed, but then looked annoyed. "You used to hate me being around Lily. Now you don't care? You don't have to be so distant with me." I stared at his profile, memorizing every micro-expression. "Harrison, if you really want to leave, you don't have to go to such lengths..." "What are you talking about?!" He cut me off, panicked. "Stop watching soap operas. We're stable. Why would I leave you?" My heart felt like it was being wrung out like a wet towel. I couldn't tell if he genuinely cared about my feelings, or if he was just terrified I’d ruin his escape plan. That was Harrison. When I was jealous, I was suffocating. When I didn't care, he was unhappy. The silence was heavy. Suddenly, he handed me a bag from the back seat. It was the pink knitting project. "Finish this for me. I've been too busy." I froze, staring at the needles. I was zoning out when the light turned green. Lily called his phone. Harrison slammed on the brakes in a panic. My body jerked forward. The knitting needle in my hand flew up and stabbed the corner of my eye. White hot pain blinded me. He hung up the phone and finally looked at me. He looked guilty, but his eyes were darting to the road. "Chloe, get out. Lily is in trouble. I have to go to her." I covered my eye, agony pulsing through my head. "My eye... it hurts..." I whispered. "Take me to the ER... please." He didn't look at me. His voice dropped. "Can you stop being dramatic for once? Get out. Now." "Get out!" Before he could finish, I opened the door and stepped onto the curb. I swallowed the sob in my throat. "Harrison, let's get a divorce." He didn't hear me. He floored the gas, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust. I went to a clinic to bandage my eye. Then, I went straight to the airport. Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the man preparing to sign away his identity suddenly hesitated. He pulled out his phone and called me.
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