Chapter 2

2

The following evening, I returned home and made myself a bowl of hot chicken soup. The moment Sierra walked through the door and saw me, she slapped the bowl off the table, shattering it onto the floor.

"You are eating alone behind my back? Where is my portion? Why didn't you cook for me?!"

I glanced at her without saying a single word.

I had seen the text she sent an hour ago, but why should I cater to her?

Was I supposed to thank her for leaving me locked in a car to bleed to death?

"I didn't feel like making any," I replied coldly.

Sierra's face turned livid. She threw a box containing a chocolate pastry onto the counter like she was tossing scraps to a beggar.

"And here I was, buying you something sweet to make up for yesterday! I only left you in the car for a little while. Are you even a real man, holding a grudge over something so petty?"

I let out a dry laugh, tossed the pastry straight into the trash can, and stood up to leave.

There was nothing left to say to a woman like her.

The smug arrogance on Sierra's face shattered the moment I turned my back on her.

"I already apologized! What else do you want from me?! Do not push your luck, Zane! I have already given you plenty of respect!"

I paused in my tracks and said flatly, "Oh. Then thank you so much for your generosity."

Furious, Sierra shoved me hard. Having lost so much blood the night before, I could barely keep my balance and stumbled against the wall.

"Are you still putting on an act?! Are you ever going to drop this?!"

"You are just jealous that I hung out with Zack! You are actually jealous of a kid who is five years younger than you!"

"Look at yourself, Zane! You are thirty years old. Whenever my friends and I go out, I am too embarrassed to even bring you along!"

I stopped, turning around to stare at her.

Ever since we got married, Sierra had weaponized age during every single argument, constantly complaining that because I was three years older, she had somehow settled for less.

Now she was comparing me to Zack, openly sneering that I was outdated, boring, and unable to fit into her trendy social circle.

Of course I was busy. I had to work hard to earn six figures while coming home every day to treat her like a spoiled princess. Where would I find the time to study high fashion just to blend in with her shallow friends?

In the past, hearing those words would have broken my heart. I would have apologized and promised to improve myself.

Today, I merely glanced at her and kept walking toward the front door.

This place, which I had once sacrificed everything to build, could no longer be called a home.

It felt like a prison.

In our past arguments, whenever I walked toward the door, Sierra would just sneer and let me go.

She was always confident that I would crawl back, which was why she felt so untouchable.

Today, seeing my hand reach for the doorknob, she panicked and chased after me into the hallway.

"Zane Collins, what do you think you are doing?!"

"So now you are running away from home?!"

"Do you think threatening me like this is going to work?!"

My voice was dead and emotionless.

"I am just going for a walk."

I turned and walked away. I could still hear Sierra screaming behind me.

"Do you think the silent treatment solves anything?! You only know how to run away! You are a pathetic coward!"

As my footsteps picked up pace, the suffocating knot in my chest finally dissolved.

The silent treatment?

Everything Sierra had put me through over the years was a thousand times worse than what I was doing right now.

Leaving that house and snapping the chains I had placed around my own neck felt liberating.

It felt incredible.

Around midnight, while wandering the quiet neighborhood streets, I ran into a neighbor walking his dog.

The neighbor smiled and teased me, saying it was rare to see such a dedicated family man enjoying some time alone.

I simply chuckled in response. When a home is already gone, what is there left to protect? From now on, my own happiness came first.

Sierra sent message after message, followed by a barrage of phone calls. I ignored every single one of them, only heading back once my mind was completely clear.

After taking a shower and getting into bed, Sierra suddenly slipped under the covers and hugged me from behind, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

"Zane, you can touch me tonight."

Look at that. That was my marriage.

Whenever I wanted to be intimate with my own wife, I had to wait for her royal permission, strictly following her supposed schedule.

That schedule was entirely based on her whim.

I could not even remember the last time we had shared an intimate moment.

"I am tired. Go to sleep and leave me alone."

I pulled away, turned my back to her, and closed my eyes. Sierra went stiff with shock, sitting up abruptly as if she wanted to scream at me, but no words came out.

Because that was the exact excuse she had used to reject me countless times.

To save what was left of her pride, Sierra slammed the bedroom door and went to sleep in the guest room. Finally, the room fell silent.

In the past, whenever she was not beside me, I would suffer from insomnia, constantly worrying that she was in danger out in the city.

Tonight, with her gone, I fell into the most peaceful sleep of my life.