Chapter 3

I stayed up all night and silently packed my things.

Keeping myself busy was the only way I could ignore the hollow ache in my chest.

Just before sunrise, I dug out my old photography equipment from the storage room. It had been untouched for years and had gathered dust.

I pressed the power button, and the screen flickered to life.

My eyes suddenly burned.

Thankfully, it still worked. I was not too late.

I was carrying the camera back into the living room when my phone rang.

It was the real estate agent.

“Mr. Gatlin, regarding the house you and your wife toured last week, I’ve already spoken with the owner. If there are no issues, you can sign the contract next weekend.”

I froze.

I had almost forgotten about it.

Not long ago, Audrey had been promoted and received a raise.

She said our current place was too small and that we should move somewhere bigger.

It had been her idea.

But from beginning to end, I handled everything: touring houses, choosing a place, contacting agents, comparing layouts, and working out the mortgage.

She only came with me once.

That day, I had excitedly shown her what would become our bedroom and asked what kind of design she liked.

Without even looking up from her phone, she had casually said, “Looks good. You decide.”

I caught a clear glimpse of her screen. She was messaging Ryan on WhatsApp.

Before we had even finished the house tour, Ryan called, and she left.

Thinking back on it, I calmly said to the agent, “Forget about the house. I don’t want it anymore.”

“What? But why? Mrs. Gatlin seemed pretty happy with it.”

I looked at the camera in my hands and gave a quiet laugh.

“Because we’re getting divorced.”

The line went completely silent.

I ended the call.

By the time I finished packing, it was already midday.

I took the divorce agreement with me and drove to the hospital.

Five years of marriage were brought to an end by a few thin sheets of paper.

They felt almost laughably light in my hand.

It was lunchtime. I figured Audrey would be in her office, so I went straight there and knocked.

Instead, Ryan opened the door.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face.

“Luke?”

I glanced past him, looking for Audrey.

He shifted sideways to block my view and lowered his voice.

“Audrey had a rough night. She spent the whole morning seeing patients, and she just fell asleep. What do you need?”

I studied him.

His hair was tousled, his clothes were a little wrinkled, and Audrey’s office stood behind him.

A wave of nausea churned in my stomach.

I tightened my grip on the folder and forced myself to look away.

“I need her to sign something.”

Ryan glanced down at the folder in my hand and smiled.

“Audrey’s exhausted. She finally managed to get some rest, so I’d rather not wake her. Just give it to me, and I’ll pass it along when she wakes up.”

I was about to refuse, but then I thought better of it.

The last thing I wanted was to see Audrey again, even for a second.

So, I handed the folder over and said, “Thanks. I’ll leave it to you.”

Then, I turned and walked away.

The scene from moments ago kept replaying in my mind.

Ryan was in her office, taking a lunch break with her. He had been so at ease and familiar that it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

The nausea in my stomach only got worse.

I rushed into the restroom and dry heaved over the sink for a long time, but nothing came up.

I splashed my face with cold water. Just as I stepped out, a sharp, cramping pain suddenly tore through my abdomen.

My vision went black, and I collapsed.

I woke to the smell of disinfectant.

A nurse noticed I was awake and let out a sigh of relief.

“Sir, you’re finally awake.”

I pushed myself upright, my head still spinning.

“What happened?”

The nurse handed me the test results, her expression grave.

“Sir, the results are in. You have a post-vasectomy infection. You’re still so young. Why did you decide to get one?”