Chapter 1

On our wedding anniversary, my wife's assistant went viral for a series of paintings titled "Willow."

The internet exploded with congratulations.

At the same time, the assistant updated his social media with a new post. The caption read: "You are the best gift."

I looked at the picture. It was my wife, wrapped up like a present.

I calmly replied to her last text: "Divorce."

In the five years we'd been married, Willow had never once agreed to be my model. She never planned any surprises for me.

The old me would have lost my mind, would have demanded an explanation.

But this time, I just turned and walked away, without a single regret.

When Willow came home in the early hours of the morning, she was holding a cake.

Or what was left of it. It was completely smashed.

The smell of alcohol hit me as she got closer.

"Kael, have you no shame? You ruined a perfectly good celebration!"

"Who are you to tell me what to do, you freeloader? Were you spying on me?"

"Well, here's something for you to spy on!"

Before I could react, she shoved the cake in my face.

Frosting and crumbs slid down my shirt. It was probably ruined.

Just like my marriage to Willow.

Today was our fifth wedding anniversary. We were supposed to celebrate together.

But my wife had shown up on another man's social media, as his "celebration gift."

No wonder she had asked me for a large cardboard box a few days ago.

I thought she was preparing a surprise for our anniversary.

But now I knew. She was planning to wrap herself up like a present for her male assistant.

The old me would have interrogated her. And then, before she could get angry, I would have apologized.

But this time, I was just… tired.

I didn't want to say a thing.

I went to the bathroom to take off my ruined shirt.

"You're all dressed up. Where were you messing around?" Willow's voice came from the doorway. She looked me up and down.

Her eyes landed on my bare ring finger, and something in her snapped. "You go out without your wedding ring, Kael? What do you think our marriage is?"

"Were you with another woman? Is that why you're so quick to ask for a divorce? So you can play the victim?"

I just looked at her, at the endless stream of accusations, and felt a wave of exhaustion.

"You're the one who lost your ring, Willow."

The night she lost her ring, I stopped wearing mine too. It just didn't feel right. It wasn't a pair anymore.

My words silenced her. Her face darkened. "So what? You couldn't just buy a new set?"

I had. I had spent a fortune on a new pair of custom rings, designed exactly to her taste. They were supposed to be my anniversary gift to her. But now, it seemed pointless.

Maybe when she lost that ring, it was a sign that we were going to lose each other too.

"Willow," I said, cutting her off, "do you even know what day it is?"

She was about to launch into another tirade, but my question stopped her. "What day could it possibly be?"

I wasn't surprised. Even though I had reminded her a dozen times, she still forgot.

In her world, only her little assistant was worth remembering.

Then, a flicker of recognition crossed her face. She coughed. "It's just our anniversary. We're an old married couple. What's there to celebrate?"

"Instead of wasting your time on this, you should clean up the house. It's a pigsty."

I looked around at the canvases and sketches scattered around the room. In her eyes, it was all just trash.

She used to say, "I want to watch you paint for the rest of my life."

But now, after just five years, everything had changed.

In her eyes, I was just a stay-at-home loser, a quiet, awkward freeloader.

But I was the one paying the mortgage. I was the one covering our monthly expenses.

Just because I worked from home, it meant I was lazy, that I wasn't contributing.

That night, I didn't sleep at all.