While a client was getting handsy with me, my wife, Celeste, was across the table, playfully linking arms with her male assistant, sharing a drink. To keep the client happy, I drank until I had alcohol poisoning, the world swimming around me, my lungs tight and fighting for air. Celeste didn't spare me a single glance. She was too busy picking cilantro out of her assistant's bowl, coaxing him to eat. After the dinner, her assistant, a kid named Leo, complained he was bored. So she kicked me out of the car to take him out for a "second round." "The kid's been working so hard lately, I'm taking him out to relax," she said, her tone dismissive. "You wouldn't get what young people do for fun anyway. Don't tag along." She paused, then delivered the final blow. "And I'm going to be out with him all night, so we'll have to postpone getting the marriage license tomorrow. We'll talk about it some other time." We had our wedding five years ago. This was the 99th time Celeste had unilaterally cancelled our appointment to make it official. I just nodded. If she was always going to be this busy, then maybe there was no point in getting that piece of paper after all. 1 The passenger window was half-down. Leo stuck his tongue out at me in a mock apology. "Sorry, Sean! It's all Celeste's fault, she just spoils me too much. I'll make sure she brings you back some late-night snacks!" Before I could respond, Celeste ruffled his hair with a smile. "You little glutton. You think everyone is as greedy as you are?" Her eyes flicked to me, cold and hard. "Don't bother with him. He'll just eat it and then complain he's having some allergic reaction. I don't have time for those kinds of games." So, she had seen me struggling earlier. She just thought I was faking it, another one of my pathetic attempts to get her attention. Usually, I would have broken down, cried, argued, tried to make her understand. But this time, I said nothing. I just managed a simple, "Alright. You two have fun." Celeste seemed taken aback for a moment, then her usual mocking smirk returned. "It's best if you don't throw a tantrum." The car sped away. Just before they left, Celeste, worried that Leo might get stuffy, thoughtfully rolled his window all the way down. I get carsick easily, especially in her car. But she never rolled the window down for me. "The wind blows all the dust in. Can you stop being so dramatic all the time?" I finally understood. I took off my wedding ring and tossed it into the dark, churning river below. The next morning, I went to the orchestra to hand over my duties. Celeste had been a piano prodigy since her debut, and I had been her manager the entire time. "You're resigning? Does Celeste know?" my boss asked, shocked. "She'll find out when the new manager arrives." I left his office and walked to the performance hall. I ran into Celeste, fresh from a shower, wearing a new camisole, her hair still damp. She ran a hand through her hair, her eyes scanning me. "I drank too much last night, so I got a room to sleep it off. That's why I didn't come home." It was the first time in ten years she had ever bothered to explain herself. I just nodded, saying nothing. "Did you have an early meeting this morning?" she asked. I looked at her, remembering all the mornings after a client dinner when I would wake up at five or six to prepare a huge spread of hangover cures and stomach-soothing broths for her. It had been this way since she was eighteen. No wonder she was surprised not to find it waiting for her this morning. "Something like that," I said. I was about to leave, but Celeste, who had been frowning since she saw me, grabbed my arm, her face darkening. "Sean, that's enough." "We're just rescheduling the license, it's not like we're not getting it at all. This little drama of yours is getting old." But I wasn't being dramatic. And I really wasn't planning on getting that license anymore. I figured it was best to be direct. I was about to tell her when a petulant, whiny voice cut through the air. "Celeste! It's all your fault!" Leo stomped his foot, his cheeks puffed out in a pout. "The underwear you bought me this morning is the wrong size! I can't even fit into these little triangle things! You're such a straight girl, you have no idea!" Celeste immediately let go of me and rushed to his side, wrapping him in a hug. Her voice was sharp with concern. "You're still recovering from gastritis and a fever, and you're running around barefoot? Are you trying to kill yourself?" A memory surfaced. Earlier this month, I had a bad case of the flu, my temperature soaring to 104. I was curled up in bed, begging her to take me to the doctor. She had just frowned. "What's the point of you?" "It's just a little cold and a fever, it's normal. Just tough it out. You're so much trouble." When I came back to myself, Celeste was already helping Leo walk away, her arm wrapped tightly around him. I looked away, swallowing the familiar ache in my chest, and pulled out my phone. I contacted the headhunter who had been trying to recruit me for a position abroad. After booking my flight, a notification popped up. Leo had tagged me in a new post. It was a live photo of a large hand gently rubbing his stomach. In the background, you could hear him sighing contentedly. "Celeste, your hand is so warm~" The caption read: My clueless older sister feels bad that my tummy hurts, so she's going to make all the pain go away! It feels so good to be cherished like this~ His intentions were painfully obvious. I liked the post, then went to my own profile and removed the wedding photo of me and Celeste that had been my background for years. ... Today, another major orchestra was visiting for a joint performance. I was still in the process of handing over my work, so I had to help out. I was responsible for greeting the musicians and showing them to the lounge. As I led the group in, the first thing we saw was Celeste, sitting at a table, feeding Leo. "Wow, I heard the great Celeste married her manager, Sean, a long time ago. I didn't realize they were so in love!" "I know, right! And a pianist's hands are her most valuable asset. She's actually using them to pick out food for her husband!" Yes, a pianist's most important asset is her hands. For ten years, I had taken care of everything for her, terrified she might get even a tiny scratch. And now, she was using those precious hands to wait on another man. The murmurs of admiration finally reached the two of them. Leo, seeing me at the head of the group, immediately put on a pitiful expression. "Sean, look at Celeste! She's forcing me to eat this nutritional porridge. I'm so sick of her feeding me!" Celeste didn't even look at me. She just gently wiped the corner of Leo's mouth. "Be good. Finish this, and then you can have your fever reducer." The chatter around me died instantly. I met their awkward gazes with a calm smile and led them to their seats. Once everyone was settled, I pulled out my phone and started the online visa application process. I don't know when Celeste appeared behind me. She saw my screen, her eyes turning cold, her voice sharp with suspicion. "A visa? Who are you getting a visa for?" Before I could answer, she grabbed my hand, her voice filled with shock. "Sean, where's your ring!?" "Don't tell me you accidentally left it at home!" I knew why she was so shocked. In eight years of marriage, my ring had never left my finger. Hers, on the other hand, had never been worn in public. Combined with everything else, a flicker of panic crossed her face. She squeezed my hand, her eyes boring into mine. "Answer me!" I was about to tell her the truth when Leo let out a piercing scream. "Ah! It hurts so much, Celeste! Owww..." Everyone turned to look. Leo had fallen to the floor next to the grand piano, a bleeding gash on his outstretched palm. Celeste pushed me aside and rushed to him, cradling him in her arms. "How could you be so careless!" Leo's face was streaked with tears. He buried his face in Celeste's chest, casting pitiful, frightened glances in my direction. "I don't know... sniff... Sean was supposed to have checked everything last night... I don't know why there was a huge piece of broken glass on the piano lid..." "Owww... Celeste, it really, really hurts..." Celeste's gaze fell on the blood-stained shard of glass on the piano. Her face contorted with fury. The next second, she was screaming at me. "Sean, have your little games gotten so twisted that you're actually trying to hurt people now!?" "Get over here and apologize!" Ignoring the contemptuous glares from everyone else, I walked over to them. "I didn't do it." "If it wasn't you, who was it!? Everyone in this orchestra knows how controlling you are! You're always the one who personally inspects my piano, aren't you!?" Without another word, she grabbed a small ceramic figurine from the piano and smashed it on the floor. Then she grabbed my hands and shoved them into the scattered shards. Pain exploded through my hands as countless pieces of ceramic embedded themselves in my flesh. "This is your lesson for today!" she spat, her voice cold. "No one is to help him clean this up!" "I'll be waiting for you to reflect on what you've done. When you're ready to apologize, you can come find me." With that, she hoisted Leo onto her back and left without a backward glance. My eyes burned, my vision blurring. Tears fell, one by one, onto the shattered ceramic pieces. My hands throbbed, but the pain in my heart was so intense I could barely breathe. The two little figures on the ceramic ornament were now in pieces. A small, folded piece of paper fell out from inside. Celeste had this made when she proposed to me, a special request from a temple. Back then, her eyes held only me. "Sean," she had said, "I've made a wish before the heavens. We will be together for the rest of our lives." And now, she was the one who had broken that vow. I carefully gathered the shards, along with my memories and the last vestiges of my love for her, and threw them in the trash. As I passed through the main hall, Celeste's performance was just ending. The applause was thunderous. She looked radiant, walking off stage to take Leo's hand and bring him up for the final bow. Celeste had experienced this moment of an artist's triumph many times. Not long ago, I overheard my boss ask her, "Sean has worked so hard as your manager for so many years. You're partners and a married couple. Why don't you ever bring him up to take a bow with you?" Her voice was laced with contempt. "I got to where I am today because of my own talent. He's just riding my coattails. And he's getting old. He's not exactly someone I want to show off." My gaze returned to the stage. Leo stood beside Celeste, his smile brilliant. The spotlight shone on them, and they really did look like a perfect couple. Just then, my phone buzzed. My visa had been approved. … I was halfway through packing when Celeste came home. She tossed a small brown bottle at me. "Medicine for you." I picked it up. I had seen this bottle of iodine before. In Leo's social media post, Celeste was using it to treat his cut. But I'm allergic to iodine. When Celeste was eighteen and just starting out, her prodigious talent had already made her a star. Another, more established musician in the industry, jealous of her success, hired someone to injure her hands. I had thrown myself in front of her without a second thought. I only sustained minor injuries, but a colleague at the orchestra, not knowing about my allergy, used iodine to disinfect the cuts. I went into anaphylactic shock and was rushed to the hospital. It took them nearly a full day in surgery to save my life. My colleagues later told me that for every minute I was in critical condition, Celeste had been outside the operating room, crying. When she came back, she threw a massive fit, tossing out every bottle of iodine in the orchestra and forbidding it from ever being brought in again. I never thought she would be the one to break her own rule. I dropped the bottle into the trash. Celeste saw my action and just snorted. "Use it or don't. I don't care." Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, and her expression softened. Her voice was gentle as she spoke into the phone. "Leo, remember not to get your wound wet. And you have to watch what you eat for a while. When you're all better, I'll take you out for something delicious." Perhaps my unusual silence made her uneasy. She kept glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. Finally, she couldn't help but speak. "What happened today... I was just trying to make an example of you. You know how much dirty business goes on in the orchestra." "The reason I punished you like that was to warn the others. And the reason I'm being so attentive to Leo now is so that you don't become the subject of gossip." I just nodded. I didn't argue. I didn't explain. "I understand." Celeste was clearly taken aback. A strange feeling washed over her. She seemed to want to say more, but I had already walked into the bathroom to pack my toiletries. On the corner of the sink, a pair of black and white boxer briefs, not mine, lay there. From outside the door, I could hear a voice message playing on Celeste's phone. "Celeste, I forgot the underwear I changed into at your place this morning... Can you bring them to me? And I love the smell of your body wash, can you bring me a bottle of that too?" No wonder Celeste was wearing a different style of top this morning. And the scent of her body wash was one she never used at home. She really was so attentive to his every need. Celeste, still on the phone, rushed towards the bathroom. As she entered, she saw me, and the boxer briefs in my hand. Her eyes darted away. "Leo wasn't feeling well this morning, so I let him change here." "Mm, okay." I didn't react, just stepped aside to let her pass. Celeste packed the underwear away, but as she was about to leave, she stopped. "If you're going to overthink this, then maybe I shouldn't go." I waved my hand, indicating I didn't care. She hesitated, but then Leo called again, urging her to hurry. After hanging up, she said to me, "I'll be right back after I drop this off. In the meantime, you can make the appointment. We'll get the marriage license tomorrow." With that, she hurried away. Once I had finished packing, I scrolled through my social media. Leo had posted again. The first picture was of a long, delicate hand testing the water temperature in a bathtub. The second was a selfie of Leo, with the blurry profile of a woman in the background, carefully washing his hair. My sister says I can't get my hand wet because of the injury, so she's going to wash my hair and give me a bath~ Why do I feel so shy all of a sudden... I flexed my bandaged hands, then took one last, long look around the home I had shared with Celeste for eight years. Just then, a text from her arrived. Something came up, I can't come back. Cancel the appointment for tomorrow. It's fine, I thought to myself. I never made one anyway. I dragged my suitcase out the door, got into a taxi, and headed for the airport. I sent Celeste a single text message saying we were over, then turned off my phone as the plane took off. …
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