The Divorce Diaries

After three long hours, I was finally pulled out of the snow.

"Ma'am, your husband and sister-in-law are up ahead waiting for you!" a cheerful young rescuer said, pointing toward the slope.

I was freezing, stiff all over, and I slowly looked up.

There they were—Clement Norman and Madison Bowen.

They were standing close, wearing matching black-and-white down jackets, looking warm and cozy.

"You're so lucky," the rescuer said dramatically. "Two people are still missing from the avalanche!"

Lucky? She had no idea.

When I was buried under the snow, Clement had grabbed Madison's hand and taken off without a second thought.

He didn't even remember I was behind him.

I lowered my head and dragged my frozen legs forward.

Clement rushed over and pulled me into his arms, his face full of concern. "Babe, are you okay? Are you hurt? If you're not feeling good, let's get a doctor."

Behind him, a pale-faced Madison was wiping her tears, as if she had been the one stuck under the snow for three hours.

"Faye, I'm so sorry," she cried. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't wanted to ski, you wouldn't have been in danger. I never expected any of this to happen..."

I didn't even have a chance to reply when Clement let go of me and stepped protectively in front of Madison, his tone cold as he told me, "You can't blame Madison for this. You agreed to go skiing."

Right. I had agreed, but only because I had no choice.

After we landed in Svalmere, I wasn't feeling well. But Clement never noticed.

As soon as Madison said she wanted to ski, he got excited and handed me the camera, telling me to take pictures.

When I said I didn't feel well, he accused me of killing the mood.

He doted on Madison, saying he saw her as his sister.

But this trip was supposed to be our long-overdue honeymoon.

He said I hadn't been active due to work, so the first stop was a ten-mile hike in Ruiselle.

Then he said November was perfect for snow, so we went to Svalmere and rode the Alpine Express.

And for one last adventure, he picked camping in the Gravenwald Rainforest.

But in the end, all I did was hold my tongue, give up my space, and keep my complaints to myself.

At this moment, all my frustration burned out. There was no point in saying anything anymore.

I said calmly, "Thank God I made it out."

Then I kept walking back to the hotel.

I'd been one step away from death, and now all I wanted was to sleep.

But as I passed Clement, he suddenly grabbed my hand and flung it forward.

Still weak from being in the snow, I lost my balance and fell hard into the icy ground. I couldn't get up for a while.

Clement froze, then scoffed. "What are you doing? I barely touched you. Are you trying to put on a show?"

I looked straight at him and enunciated, "I was buried under snow for three hours. I'm exhausted."

He backed off a bit, but still kept criticizing me.

"Even if you're tired, you don't need to act like this. Do you know how scared Madison was while you were missing? Now you're making everyone uncomfortable with that face.

"She ran around asking people for help. And you couldn't even say thank you? How rude."

His voice kept rising, like I'd committed some awful crime.

Madison gently tugged at his sleeve, explaining softly, "Faye, when Clement pulled me away, I looked back and saw you hadn't followed, so I—"

She stopped and covered her mouth, pale as ever. Then she stepped in front of Clement like some martyr and said firmly to me, "Please don't take it the wrong way. It all happened too fast. Clement only pulled me because he thought I was you. If you wanna blame someone, blame me, not him."

Clement wrapped an arm around her and looked at me like I'd disappointed him beyond repair.

"Show some grace, will you?"

I hadn't even said a word, and the two of them put on a whole show targeting me, as if I were the villain here.

It had only been a few days into our honeymoon, and suddenly everything was clear.

Clement always said Madison was like a sister to him.

But what kind of brother would give his "sister" foot baths? Peel shrimp for her? Wash her underwear by hand?

Even after five years of marriage, Clement had never done any of that for me.

I forced myself up and brushed the snow off my clothes.

"What exactly am I supposed to thank her for?

"For crashing our honeymoon? For clinging to you every second of the day? Or for forcing me to go skiing and use me like her personal photographer?

"Thanks, Madison. You're really thoughtful."

Then I turned to Clement and asked nicely, "Can I go back to the hotel now?"

He stared at me and gritted his teeth.

"Why do you always have to be so bitter? I can't stand you."

Then he grabbed Madison's hand and walked away without looking back as I stood there in the freezing wind.

The colder it got, the clearer everything became. And the more my eyes started to sting.