I sat alone until three in the morning.
Staring at the wedding photo on the coffee table, I finally picked up the phone and dialed my lawyer.
"Sorry to bother you so late. Please draft a divorce agreement for me."
Early the next morning—I was woken by the clatter of things in the bathroom.
Serina stood in front of the mirror, applying lipstick, then lowered her head and smiled stupidly at her phone.
Suddenly, my phone chimed. As I glanced at the screen, I saw the calendar reminder. Today was my birthday.
She noticed I was awake, came over, and kissed my cheek lightly.
"Go back to sleep, hubby. I've got to head out later to check out Claire's new camping project."
She spoke casually as if nothing had happened.
It was always like this.
Every fight, every conflict—so long as I didn't press, she pretended nothing was wrong, acting her way past it all.
I opened my mouth to speak, but she had already turned away, tapping rapidly on her phone screen.
A knock came at the door.
She dropped her phone on the table and practically ran to answer it.
A sudden, sharp premonition seized me. I picked up her phone.
The screen was still lit. A group chat named "The Original Crew" was buzzing with messages.