I visited the pavilion I built to commemorate the faded existence of my child.
I'll bring Athijha here for some other time.
When I got home, I decided to give her a call.
[What is your problem, again?] She said as soon as she answered the call.
"Are you home?" I asked.
[And why should you know?] She retorted with sarcasm.
"You didn't text me so I got worried. Are you home? I'm heading there," I said, making up reasons just so I can hear her talk.
[No, I am not. I just left. And I don't really see any reason why you should know.]
"Because I am your husband," I responded in a proud tone, giving her a hint about what I did.
She scoffed. [No, you're not.]
[Yes, I am.] I insisted.
[Shut up, Exiquel. We're divorced. Stop insisting we're not separated, you dumbass.]
"Or not," I chuckled.
[Whatever you say. I gotta go. There is something important I have to do. Something more important than you,] She said then dropped the call.
Then she found out about what I did. She kept on ranting about h
