I thought, "Take care of him? So you two are still cozy together at this hour?
That hair-pulling intimacy must mean you're sharing a bed, right?
And today is our sixth wedding anniversary!"
I couldn't hold back and shouted into the phone, "Ariana, you're still my wife, and yet you're in another man's bed! Don't you see the problem here?"
Ariana snapped back, "Marvin and I grew up together. We've been through everything since childhood. So what if we're sharing a bed?"
Then I heard movement on the other end.
It sounded like she was shifting to another location.
Lowering her voice, she continued, "Besides, didn't I tell you? It's a fake divorce. Once I handle the wedding with Marvin, we'll get our marriage license back. We're not even getting a real divorce, so why are you making a fuss?"
After hearing her words, I felt a wave of absurdity wash over me.
About a month ago, when Ariana first told me Marvin had been diagnosed with terminal heart failure, I had felt genuinely sorry for them both.
But then she changed her tone.
"Arthur, Marvin has always wanted to marry me. Can we get the divorce first, and once this is all over, we can remarry? Let's just do it to fulfill Marvin's last wish."