Chapter 2

Calista came back home way after midnight, smelling of cedar and bergamot—Tyler's favorite cologne scents.

I placed the divorce papers on the coffee table. "Sign this."

She gave the divorce papers a cursory glance, as if she were irritated by how childish I was being.

"You've been throwing a tantrum the whole night, Joel." She flipped back to the front. "Even if you want me to appease you, you shouldn't try to threaten me with divorce."

Even when I'd decided to leave, she assumed I was just begging to be placated.

That night, she lay down beside me as usual. Half the bed separated us.

Sometimes, a person could be lying right beside you, yet their heart was still somewhere else entirely.

…

The next day, I got a call from my father bright and early in the morning.

"Joel, come home for dinner tonight. Tyler has lost a lot of weight from distress lately. Don't make things harder for him."

I gripped my phone tightly. "Dad, did you know that she's in love with him?"

After a long silence, Dad asked, "Who fed you that nonsense?"

"So you knew about it."

Dad's tone softened. "Joel, what happened back then isn't something that can be explained with just a single sentence."

"Use as many as you need then."

"Our company was on the verge of bankruptcy back then. Your mother was so anxious that she couldn't sleep all night. Calista was willing to lend us a hand. She saved our family."

"And in exchange, you shipped me off to the Wrights?"

"What do you mean we shipped you into the Wright family? You know perfectly well what kind of family the Wrights are—and what kind of woman Calista is. Everyone envies you for being her husband!"

"But she's in love with Tyler," I pointed out.

Dad paused briefly before saying, "It's not unusual for women to still have feelings for an old flame."

I snorted. An old flame, huh?

Tyler was Calista's old flame, while I, her husband, was just an outsider.

…

That evening, Calista drove over to pick me up. She handed me a gift box. "It's for your father."

I opened it up and saw a pair of emerald cufflinks.

"And what did you prepare for Tyler?" I asked.

Calista kept her eyes on the road. "He just got a divorce. It wouldn't be appropriate for him to receive such lavish gifts."

I closed the box. "I never knew you cared so much about propriety."

Calista glanced at me. "There's no need for you to be so sarcastic, Joel."

"It only sounds like sarcasm to you because you have a guilty conscience."

She didn't say anything else after that.

…

When we entered the dining room at my family home, Tyler was already seated at the table. He was wearing a light blue sweater, his face looking a little pale.

The moment he saw Calista come in, he got up.

"Calista! You're here," he greeted, his tone leisurely and affectionate.

It was as if I were the guest in this house instead.

Smiling, Mom suggested, "Why don't you take the seat beside Tyler, Calista? He only just moved back to town, and you're one of the few people he's close to."

Calista paused for a moment before taking the seat beside me. Tyler's gaze dimmed a little. He picked up the serving ladle and filled a bowl with soup. Placing it in front of Calista, he said, "You've always had a weak stomach. Have some warm soup first."

"Tyler has always been very attentive," Dad swiftly remarked with a chuckle before turning to me. "You've been married for three years now, Joel. It's time you learn how to take care of your wife."

I looked at the bowl of soup. "This is the first I've ever heard about her having a weak stomach."

Silence settled over the table before Tyler said softly, "I just happened to remember something from way back, Joel, so I did it without thinking much of it."

I asked, "So back in high school, when her stomach cramped from drinking iced coffee, did you also just happen to get her some hot milk to settle her stomach without thinking much of it?"

Tyler's face paled, and Calista set down her cutlery.

"Joel," she said in a warning tone.

I turned to Mom. "You knew about it too, didn't you, Mom?"

Frowning, Mom asked, "Knew about what?"

"That my wife is in love with my brother."

Dad shot to his feet. "Joel!"

Ignoring him, I continued, "You knew that the only reason she married me was to have a reason to give our family money, so that Tyler's in-laws, the Hudsons, wouldn't look down on him."

Mom didn't answer my question, but her silence told me everything I needed to know.

With a pained expression, Tyler spoke up. "Stop acting like this, Joel. Mom and Dad had no choice."

I turned to him. "And neither did you, huh?"

Biting his lip, he said, "I was having a hard time with the Hudsons. They scorned me because of our family's financial troubles. Even the housekeeper looked down on me. They only started treating me with a little more respect after the Wrights invested in our family's company."

He made things sound so difficult for him, but every word he said was a clear reminder that my marriage had merely been a tool that let him hold his head up high in front of the Hudsons.

Dad took my shoulder. "Joel, Tyler just went through a divorce. He has suffered enough as it is."

Fixing my eyes on Dad, I said, "I just had surgery."

Dad stiffened.

"It hasn't even been a month since I, your own son, came out of surgery."

"Why are you bringing this up at the dinner table?" Mom rebuked me. "You're ruining our appetite."

Calista frowned. It looked like she wanted to say something, but Tyler spoke first, his voice choked. "This is all my fault. You guys wouldn't be fighting like this if I hadn't come back here."

Calista immediately grabbed some tissues for him, moving so instinctively that it looked like second nature.

Staring at the tissues, I chuckled. So she was indeed capable of taking care of someone after all.

I got up. "You guys can carry on with your dinner."

Mom slammed her hand on the table. "If you walk out of here now, you can forget about ever coming back to this house!"

I looked back at her. "Alright."

Dad stiffened. "Don't say things you don't mean out of anger, Joel."

"I meant every word I said."

As I walked out of the Manning residence, not a single person came after me. I was already out the front gate when I got a text from Dad.

"Tyler's suffering from indigestion because of the distress you caused him. Get back in here and apologize to him."

With my eyes fixed on those words, I started laughing for what felt like forever. Only after the laughter subsided did I change Dad's contact name to "Mr. Manning".

From now on, they weren't Mom and Dad to me anymore. They were Gloria Fisher and Peter Manning.

I took one last look at the brightly lit house that I had once called home. All I wanted now was to go to a place where no one would ever demand that I apologize to anyone.