My Wife's Unforgettable Love, My Forgotten Life
A full four-minute video, a montage of every photo theyd taken together from high school through college.
All set to his favorite song lyric: "I said I want us to be together."
I texted her, "Wishing you two lovebirds all the best."
She graciously replied.
"Don't make a scene. He's just having a bad day, and I only want to cheer him up."
I held up my phone, recorded every second of their saccharine memories, and blasted it to our mutual friends' group chat.
My caption: "Here's to my wife and her old flame finally getting their happy ending."
It quickly blew up. Chloe, furious, logged into my account and deleted the post.
Then she called, screaming, "Mark, are you even a man? I'm just looking after a sick friend, you know that! Did you have to drag this out for the whole world to see?"
After she hung up on me, her precious Leo sent me a picture of them, a sweet, passionate kiss.
The woman Id sworn to love forever, betraying me so openly.
This time, I wouldnt get angry. I wouldnt rush to confront her.
I just wanted to get away from both of them, to find some peace for myself.
Without a moment's hesitation, I canceled the hotel room Id booked for our anniversary that night and flew back home.
The first thing I did after landing was call a divorce lawyer to draft the papers.
Back at our house, I went straight to the wine cabinet, staring at the red wine wed bottled ourselves when we got married.
All that newlywed sweetness, apparently worth less to her than Leo, her first love, saying, "I'm having a bad day."
I popped the cork and chugged the wine straight from the bottle. It was sour, bitter.
Awful.
I poured the rest down the drain. It wasn't like we'd ever be using it to celebrate an anniversary again.
Everything in this house was tied to memories of me and Chloe.
The wool rug in the living room was her favorite; we used to sit on it, side-by-side, watching movies.
The lamp over the dining table was her pick too; she said it made food look more appetizing.
Now, all these things just sat here, mocking my powerlessness against a cheating wife.
I took them all down, piling them haphazardly in the hallway by the living room entrance.
Only after doing all that did I finally go to the bedroom. Fifteen hours on a plane had exhausted me. I collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep.
I didn't wake up until the next afternoon, startled by the loud slam of Chloe opening the front door.
"Mark, are you trying to tear our house apart?"
I walked out of the bedroom, glanced at the mess on the floor without a word, and headed to the bathroom to freshen up.
I thought witnessing her betrayal firsthand would shatter me.
But last night, after Leo sent that picture of their kiss, something in me just let go.
Id had some wine, slept soundly, and for the first time in ages, I hadnt waited up for Chloe on the sofa. The feeling was surprisingly liberating.
"I'm talking to you, didn't you hear me?"
I spat out a mouthful of toothpaste, mumbling, "You don't even bother coming home anymore. Do you really care if I wreck the place?"
Chloe's face turned ugly.
Unexpectedly, she rolled up her sleeves and actually started cleaning up the mess Id made.
When she found the ten empty wine bottles, her brow furrowed. "You drank all of this by yourself?"
I didn't feel like explaining, just nodded noncommittally.
She was speechless with surprise, then a look of understanding, or misunderstanding, crossed her face. She thought I was drowning my sorrows.
"You shouldn't have just run off back home without a word. You didn't even get your anniversary present."
She pulled a small, elegant black box from her purse and handed it to me.
I opened it. Inside, a green and gold designer watch lay nestled on velvet.
"You said you liked this brand, right? I brought it back specially from New York for you."
The old carrot-and-stick routine. This was Chloes classic move to appease me.
I didn't call her out on it.
Just ten minutes ago, Leo had posted on social media.
In the photo, Chloe, who knew nothing about men's watches, was standing at a luxury counter, patiently picking out a gift.
The next photo showed Leos wrist, sporting a similar watch from a different collection by the same brand.
I knew. This watch of mine was probably his reject.
While Chloe was busy with the pile of junk, I closed the gift box and casually tossed it, watch and all, into the trash can.
Chloe turned around just in time to see me do it.
"Mark! I picked that out especially for you! How could you!"
She really thought a little lie would make me forgive everything.
I told her, my face blank, "I'm not into that brand anymore."
"You Fine. I'm tired, I don't want to clean anymore. I'm going to bed. Get the housekeeper to deal with it."
I knew shed wanted to say something much harsher.
As she headed to the bedroom, her phone buzzed with a notification. She reflexively gestured for me to bring it to her.
I glanced at the screen. It was from Leo.
I read it out loud, "Chloe, I feel like the luckiest man in the world."
Chloe hadn't expected me to mimic Leos deliberately saccharine tone, my voice low and syrupy. She exploded.
She grabbed a glass wine bottle from the dining table and smashed it on the floor.
"Mark, when are you going to stop? Are you some kind of masochist?"
Shards of glass sliced across the top of my foot. A sharp sting.
I stared at the blood welling up, taunting, "Isn't that how Leo talks to you?"
Chloe was squeamish about blood. She immediately grabbed the dining table for support, flustered, yelling at me, "Are you stupid? Didn't you know to move? Don't think this will make me feel sorry for you!"
I ignored her and went to find the first-aid kit to bandage my foot.
When I realized the bleeding wasnt stopping, I wrapped it up quickly and prepared to go to the hospital.
Seeing my injury was somewhat serious, Chloe said guiltily, "Let me take you to the hospital."
"No need," I said coldly.
After a few back-and-forths, she still followed me into the elevator going down.
In the underground parking garage, Chloe offered to drive. Given my injured foot, I didn't refuse.
The moment I sat in the back seat, she questioned me with her usual displeasure, "Now what's wrong with you? Why aren't you sitting in the passenger seat?"
I rolled down the window for some air. The truth was, the car reeked of Leo's pine-scented cologne.
Under Chloes dark gaze, I made up an excuse, "You're squeamish about blood. I was worried you'd be uncomfortable driving."
This explanation seemed to calm her down a bit.
"Oh, I accidentally spilled some perfume yesterday. The smell might be a little strong."
With that, she pulled a half-empty bottle of cologne from her bag and offered it to me.
"I blended this myself. Since you didn't like the other gift, take this. It's a shame half of it spilled. If you don't mind, please accept it."
More of Leos stuff. Did Chloe see me as some kind of beggar, always picking up Leos cast-offs?
I didn't want anything connected to Leo.
I didn't take it, refusing directly, "The blood's about to get on the car seats. Can we please hurry to the hospital?"
She'd been snubbed and fell silent.
On the way, she kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror, looking like she wanted to say something but couldn't, as if she had some difficult secret.
I closed my eyes, pretending to rest. She finally couldn't hold it in anymore, "My mom wants us to go over to her place for dinner tonight. Can you"
She was obviously worried Id spill the beans about Leo being back in town.
Since Id already decided on a divorce, I didnt want to complicate things further, especially not make it harder for my mother-in-law to deal with the truth.
I nodded. Chloe visibly relaxed.
The rest of the drive was unusually quiet. But this time, the silence didn't feel awkward; it was almost comfortable.
At the hospital, she hurriedly dropped me off at the emergency room and then practically fled.
"I'll go grab a bite to eat and be right back to keep you company!"
"Once you're done, we'll go home together to see Mom."
There was a car accident victim in the ER, covered in blood. Chloe, with her aversion to it, couldn't even get close.
More than an hour passed after the doctor treated my wound, but Chloe still hadn't returned.
Just then, my phone buzzed. Leo had updated his social media, saying he had a stomachache from eating too much seafood, and "someone" was incredibly worried about him.
The accompanying picture showed he was at this very hospital.
Clearly, Chloe wouldn't be accompanying me to her mom's tonight.
I didn't want to face my mother-in-laws pressure about having kids alone anyway, so I made an excuse and canceled the dinner.
Leaving the hospital, having slept for a day straight without eating, a sharp pain twisted in my gut. My stomach churned.
I leaned against a wall, dry heaving, cold sweat beading on my forehead.
A doctor saw me and hurried over to ask if I was okay. I waved him off, thanking him, and forced myself to follow the signs towards the restroom.
Just as I turned a corner, I heard Leos familiar voice, "Leo, youre still the same, always making people worry. You overate and got indigestion, didn't you!"
"Chloe, I haven't been back in the country for so long, and the seafood chowder you made was so delicious, I wanted to eat the whole bowl."
So, she'd been busy all afternoon making him chowder before coming home.
Seeing them so intimate, I felt even more nauseous.
Chloe was smiling radiantly, a tenderness shed never shown me. "You still can't eat like that. If you want it, I can make it for you anytime. Just don't do this again, okay?"
Leo saw me, then deliberately cupped Chloes face and kissed her hard. "Got it!"
Those hands, which I had once cherished, had never cooked for me. Now, they were readily available for Leo at any time.
The power of a first love, truly something to both adore and despise.
The pain in my abdomen intensified, sweat trickling down my face.
I knew I looked a mess, but compared to the scene in front of me, Id rather escape.
Just as I turned to leave, Leo called out, "Mark? What are you doing here?"
Leo noticed me standing by the dermatology clinic door. His eyes lit up, and he walked straight towards me.
As they got closer, Leo's eyes filled with disdain.
"What are you hiding for? Looking so rough, afraid we'll find out you've got some shameful disease?"
The smile that had been on Chloe's face vanished the moment she saw me.
"Didn't I tell you I'd come find you? Is it fun stalking us every day? Your foot's injured, and you still can't stay put, insisting on coming here to make trouble for yourself?"
I looked up at Chloe. She seemed to be expecting me to be grateful for her "trust."
Grateful that she believed I didn't have "that kind of disease."
Grateful that she was saving face for me in front of Leo.
But there was no hint of panic or embarrassment on her face at her lies being exposed, only blame and coldness towards me.
The sweat pouring down my face right now seemed to mean nothing to her.
I tried to walk around them, heading for the restroom further down.
But Leo suddenly reached out to block me. I instinctively tried to avoid his touch.
With a slight shrug, I somehow sent Leo sprawling to the ground.
Chloe reacted instantly, helping Leo up and, in the same motion, shoving me to the floor.
"Mark!"
"Haven't you had enough!"
She hadn't used her full strength, but the stitches in my foot, the anesthetic long worn off, throbbed with unbearable pain. I couldn't withstand even that gentle push.
The fall made me dizzy. The pain in my abdomen and foot quickly spread to my stomach, sending waves of cramps through me. My temples throbbed.
I just wanted to get up quickly and get to the restroom to relieve myself.
I finally struggled to my feet, but Chloe gripped my wrist tightly, not letting me go.
"Apologize to Leo!"
In her cold eyes, she completely missed the fact that the gauze on my foot was now soaked red with blood.
My whole body was screaming in pain.
I used all my strength to stand steady, fighting back my anger, demanding she let go.
She squeezed my wrist so hard her nails almost dug into my flesh, leaving red marks.
But I wouldn't give in.
"You didn't leash your dog. What's that got to do with me?"
"If you don't let go, I'll tell your family about your little affair!"
Chloe finally released her grip, her eyes red. She slapped me across the face. "Mark! You dare!"
She looked like she wanted to yell more, but the next second, the intense abdominal pain made me suddenly vomit.
It was a purely physical reaction, not intentional.
I threw up acidic bile all over Chloe. Compared to my wretched state, the stains on her dress were more conspicuous.
This sudden turn of events, strangely, made me feel a little better.
Seeing my pale face and the pain in my eyes, Chloe, surprisingly, didn't fly into a rage about being soiled.
She forgot Leo was even there and instinctively moved to pat my back. "You drank so much last night, you must have gastritis! Why are you always so much trouble!"
Her scent made me wrinkle my nose. I pinched my nostrils and dodged her touch.
Chloes hand froze in mid-air, the concern on her face vanishing quickly.
"Mark! Aren't you going too far!"
I ignored her accusation and limped towards the restroom to clean myself up.
Only then did Chloe remember my injured foot. A flicker of guilt crossed her face.
She followed me to the restroom door, trying to soothe me, "Okay, I shouldn't have hit you. But you stalking us, that's not exactly honorable, is it? I'll take you to see a doctor. Stop making a scene, okay?"
This was the first time shed spoken to me so gently since Leo came back, as if coaxing a child.
But it only made me feel sicker. I couldn't help but dry heave again.
Chloe panicked. Ignoring that it was the men's room, she rushed in to help me.
"Get away! Don't touch me!"
I slapped her hand away without mercy.
She froze, her eyes wide with disbelief, then her face flushed with anger.
"Don't you have any dignity as a man?"
"I gave you the Evans family name, you should have some responsibility! Since you're so ungrateful, let's just get a divorce!"
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