A reason to stay

Justin,

The room was tidy and quiet when I stepped in. The scent of lavender and jasmine hit my nostrils, reminding me of my own bedroom. The day after we got married, I noticed that calm scent which wasn’t mine. And I didn’t hate it. Best, it actually made me sleep better.

When I stepped further into the room, I noticed her, tucked under the blanket, her face half hidden beneath it, breathing softly and steadily.

This was the very first time I noticed her face. She was indeed attractive. This woman was my wife, a family I had been neglecting. I had no face to show. Guilt and shame ate at me as I sat on the edge of the bed.

The dimly lit room didn’t look dim as light peeked in through the translucent curtains. The light directly hit her face.

There were creases on her forehead, a frown that announced her exhaustion and heartbreak, and that pale, sickly expression somehow stabbed my heart.

Maybe it was guilt. Maybe…

My fingers reached her forehead as a few strands of hair lay stuck to her skin. I grabbed my handkerchief from my pocket subconsciously and pressed it to her forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat.

She moved when I removed the strands of hair, but didn’t open her eyes. I wanted to wake her up but dared not. To me, facing emotional confrontation was harder than facing critical issues at work.

Yet, I couldn’t move, couldn’t walk away without solving this issue.

Just as I almost withdrew my handkerchief from her forehead, a warm hand gripped my wrist tightly, enough to make me flinch.

“Who are you?” Her eyes were half open when she snarled, her throat hoarse. Maybe she cried before sleeping.

“It’s me,” I said quietly, without pulling my hand away.

Her eyes flew open. She sat up, looking at me, stunned. “Justin?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing here? Who allowed you to come here?” Her words were cold and sharp. The hatred wasn’t just a layer; it was the voice of her mind now.

“I came to see you. I told you we will talk once I am done—”

“Working?” She scoffed. “Finally got time to talk? Should I be honoured?” she retorted.

“Aurelia—”

“Don’t—!” She raised her hand. “If you are here to ask for forgiveness, or to make up, or to ask for reconsideration of the divorce… then you are wasting your time. You don’t deserve anything!”

She shoved the blanket aside and turned on the table lamp. She walked straight to her dressing table and grabbed the divorce papers.

“Here!” She returned, throwing the papers on the bed. “We don’t have anything to separate or split. So let’s just get it done. I don’t want to go to court and make it ugly.”

Her voice was sharp, but I could see the exhaustion.

I stared at the cold papers. One signature and it was done. But for some reason, I didn’t like it. I had signed thousands of files, but never hated a signature. But this woman…

Something about her didn’t sit right in my mind. She wasn’t like those people or documents that I could abandon after signing.

“What’s wrong? Can’t do it? Scared that people will say the billionaire tycoon who is married to his own work has finally become free from worldly responsibility?”

I couldn’t reply. All I could do was watch her. This was the first time she was talking more than just “yes,” “okay,” and some day-to-day one-sentence questions.

“Shall we try marriage counselling first?” I asked without even thinking.

She froze, staring at me as if I were a clown. “What?”

“I don’t want to end it like this. Maybe we can—”

“Why?” she asked, cutting in.

“What?”

“Tell me one reason why I should stay married to you,” she asked, folding her arms. There wasn’t any warmth or emotion. Just facts that had turned her emotionless.

“I…”

“I am waiting. Please give me a reason why I should stay married to you.”

Silence fell, because I didn’t know what to say either. Why would she stay married to me? We weren’t like a married couple, or lovers either.

“I don’t have anything to answer.”

She scoffed. “Good that you know yourself better.” She held out a pen to me. “Free me from this unwanted legal attachment. And don’t ruin another woman’s life by marrying her. She doesn’t deserve it!”

I held the pen. Cold and smooth. But for the first time, I noticed its roughness, the shape, the uncomfortable feeling. I clenched my jaw, feeling something hot steaming in my head.

“Still—!” I looked up, meeting those cold eyes. “I would like to give it another try!”

Her face crumbled immediately, not with rage but exhaustion and disappointment. “Seriously? I don’t think so. I don’t want to have a cold, lonely marriage. I deserve love. I deserve a husband who will hold my hand and let me cry on his shoulder when I am at my lowest. Not someone who thinks I am disposable, a burden, and a thorn!”

Tears streamed down her face as she spoke, her voice rising each time, as if years of pent-up frustration had finally reached their breaking point.

“Do you really want to go through this? Maybe we can—”

“No!” Her voice was firm and final. “I want to be free from you as soon as possible. You remind me of everything I have lost.”

Something inside me twisted painfully, but I couldn’t name it. I grabbed the papers and looked at them. It felt weird, as if I was ending something I shouldn’t. Would I regret it if I went through with it? What if it was a mistake from the beginning?

She had always been an inconvenience to me until now. Then why did it feel like I was…

I looked up. This woman… she deserved better, but… I couldn’t let her go.

“No!” I stood up. “Let’s just stay legally separated for a while,” I said firmly. “I hate giving up without trying once.”

“What did you say?” Her voice dropped.

I looked straight into her eyes and muttered, “I don’t want to let you go without giving our marriage another chance.”