The Day She Stabbed Me To Save Him

On my birthday, Seraphinas assistant, Blake, put me up for auction on a live stream like some used-up piece of furniture.
The title screamed: The Barren Trophy Husband, The Wastrel with the Zero-Count, The Parasite of the Maxwell Dynasty.
Seraphina was afraid I would show up at the company and make a scene.
That evening, she brought home a carton of discount, near-expired chocolate mousse from the grocery store. The syrup was already seeping out of the cracked plastic rim.
Asher, Blake was just being playful, she said, her voice strained. Hes a little brash, but he picked this out specially for you. Dont make such a big deal out of it.
Dadmy father-in-law, Arthurwas shaking with pure rage. He grabbed the heavy porcelain vase on the side table, ready to hurl it at her.
I just stared at the film of melted, cheap cream coating the surface of the mousse.
I closed my eyes and made a wish: I hope this year, I finally find the strength to leave this house.
1
As the words faded.
Dads expression, which had been contorted with fury, suddenly froze.
Asher, you
Asher Cole, what Oscar-winning tragedy are you auditioning for now? Seraphinas already dark mood soured further. I handled the Blake thing. The stream was deleted. It was just a stupid joke. Why are you dragging it out?
Her gaze flicked over Dad, then a sudden, hollow realization dawned on her face. She curved her lips into a smirk of pure disdain.
Youre not trying to play up the drama because Dads here, are you? Asher, youre thirty years old. Can you stop with the childish games?
I met her gaze, not flinching from the unconcealed contempt in her eyes.
I kept my voice flat. Lets say I am. Seraphina, I want a divorce.
The words were a pause button. The muscles in Seraphinas face instantly seized up. A wave of raw panic and anxiety surged into Dads eyes.
Asher, you cant talk about divorce! I already had the platform ban the account. If thats not enough, Ill transfer Seras assistant to the overseas division immediately
This incident was only the last shard of glassthe final, pathetic straw.
My marriage to Seraphina.
The chasm had opened the day Blake became her personal assistant. It was a silent, black gulf we both pretended wasnt there.
Asher, take the win and move on! Blake brought you a cake to apologize. What more do you want?
The wick of the cheap candle had burned out. The melted wax had coagulated into an ugly, brittle crust on the mousse.
It was the final seal on this relationship that had rotted from the inside out.
I traced the rough, uneven terrain of the old scar beneath my collarbone, ignoring her.
I turned to Dad. Do you remember when I dropped out of college my sophomore year?
That year.
I acquired the indelible mark I would carry for the rest of my life.
And the person who had inflicted it was Blake Harrison.
It was only because the research project I was part of had received the specific funding grant managed by the professor Blake had a crush on.
He and a few guys from his fraternity dragged me from the lab to a storage warehouse for discarded equipment.
They used an industrial-grade solvent to burn my skin.
They made me kneel and scrape mud off their sneakers with my tongue.
At the time, Seraphina had just taken over the family business.
When she came to the university to pick me up.
I was a discarded rag doll, thrown next to the dumpster behind the administration building, with massive chemical burns from my neck to my chest.
The moment Seraphina saw me, she broke.
She tore off her cashmere coat and wrapped me in it, her scream tearing through the air as she called the paramedics.
On the way to the hospital.
She was trembling uncontrollably, whispering over and over into my ear: Asher, wait. I promise, I will make them pay for this.
Yet, six months ago.
When I found out her new assistant was Blake.
I cornered her in her office, sobbing hysterically.
I clutched her sleeve and pleaded, Please, just send him away? Im begging you, I cant see him again.
She looked at my breakdown.
She was cold and calm, as if watching a drama that had nothing to do with her.
She said lightly, Asher, let the past go. People make mistakeshe paid his dues; he was expelled. You have to give him a chance at redemption.
The sight of him.
It was a floodgate opening on memories I had forcibly locked away.
My depression, which I thought was managed, came roaring back.
I couldnt tell anyone.
I just secretly doubled my medication dose every day.
Every time I saw the concern in Dads eyes.
I choked back the words, not wanting to worry him anymore.
I chewed up all the suffering and swallowed it whole.
Until yesterday, when my therapist told me, his face grave:
Mr. Cole, if your condition doesnt come under effective control soon, I cant guarantee what will happen next.
I knew.
The unspoken words were
If I dont get control, Im headed for self-destruction.
When I was twelve.
My parents, environmental scientists, were caught in a sudden flash flood during a fieldwork trip.
They had carved out a small air pocket for me between the rock and the mud, their last words echoing: Asher, live. Well be the wind that follows you.
They used their lives.
To give me a second chance at survival.
Dad, a dear friend of my father, came back from the mountains with me to the Maxwell estate. His eyes were red-rimmed as he held me. Asher, you must live well, carrying your parents hope. Only if you live a good life can they rest easy up there.
So, I had to divorce her.
I had to leave Seraphina, who no longer loved me.
My words brought the past back for Dad as well.
He started to tremble, looking at Seraphina in disbelief.
The person who hurt Asher all those years ago is the same person who publicly humiliated him on a stream now?
A fleeting look of terror crossed Seraphinas eyes, but she insisted on defending Blake.
That was years ago! You sued him, Dad! He was expelled! He paid the price. Why cant we be the bigger people and give him a chance to start over?
Dads hand shook so violently he couldnt hold a grip.
He raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face.
You wicked girl! We give him a chance? Who gave Asher a chance?! Look at the scars he carries! He destroyed Ashers future, and you still defend him?! Are you even human?!
His chest heaved, his eyes burning with fury. He turned and grabbed my hand. Asher, get the divorce! We dont need this kind of unprincipled creature in the family!
With that.
He dragged me out the door, away from the suffocating enclosure of the house.
Once outside, tears rolled silently down his red eyes.
The hand gripping mine was cold as ice.
He choked back a sob. Asher, why didnt you tell me you were in so much pain? If anything happened to you, how could I face your parents when I see them again?
Looking at his tear-streaked face.
A dense, bitter feeling welled up in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Im fine, Dad. Its all in the past I patted the back of his hand lightly.
His scalding tears dropped onto my skin.
But I knew.
This would never be the past.
I would never forget Blakes malice.
Nor would I forget the triumphant, challenging looks he threw my way whenever Seraphina stood between us, shielding him.
Asher, I I agree to the divorce. But you have to remember, I will always be your father, and the Maxwells will always be your fallback.
Dad took me back to the Maxwell familys ancestral home.
I used to stay here for a few days when Seraphina was away on business, so my room was kept exactly as I liked it.
After I calmed Dad down.
I went up to wash.
When I came out of the shower.
I sent Seraphina a message.
Arrange a time. Lets go to the courthouse for the divorce paperwork in the next couple of days.
She didnt reply.
The next day, she sent someone over with a crate of the artisan grapes I liked.
Mrs. Rodriguez, the housekeeper, opened the box and frowned.
Why are these grapes withered? And they smell sour?
She skeptically picked one off the vine and tasted it.
The next moment, her face twisted in disgust. She spat it out hurriedly.
Sir, theyre all rotten.
Just throw them away.
I didnt look up, my eyes fixed on the blank chat thread.
Immediately, a message from Blake popped up.
It was a photo: two crates of plump, vibrant green grapes sitting on a sleek, luxurious office desk.
His text read: Sera just had these air-freighted for me. Too much for one person. Want me to send you some? OopsI dont have the old house address. Could you send it?
I stared at the message.
I didn't reply.
This wasn't his first taunt.
The first time, hed been with Seraphina at a charity gala, and shed drunk too much.
He added me on a messaging app, asking for our home address.
I wanted to ignore him, but I couldnt leave Seraphina stranded.
I accepted the request and sent the pin.
I waited in the living room until 3 AM.
They never showed.
Just as the sun began to break.
He sent a photoBlakes bare torso, a careless V sign flashed at the camera, leaning into Seraphinas sleeping shoulder.
The caption: You know, Asher? We were sleeping together before she made me her assistant. This is number five. Your woman has been mine for a long time now.
Thats when I finally understood.
Why she could so easily tell me to forgive him for everything hed done to me.
My illness resurfaced with brutal force.
I collapsed, crying, using a shard of broken porcelain to slice my wrist.
When Seraphina finally returned.
I was unconscious from blood loss.
When I woke up.
Her eyes finally held a flicker of guilt.
She apologized, claiming she was drunk, that it was a momentary lapse in judgment.
I didnt dare tell Dad.
I swallowed the bitter pill alone.
After that, Blake sent increasingly brazen photos.
My medication doses grew larger and larger.
One time, even after taking the pills, I still had an episode.
Seraphina was gone again, claiming a last-minute business trip.
When Blake sent me a pin to their hotel suite.
I walked, lost and disoriented, onto the high-rise balcony.
I thought, if I just jumped, all of this would end.
Just as I prepared to let go.
Dads call pulled me back.
He asked what I wanted to eat the next day. He wanted to cook for me.
Hearing his gentle voice.
I clamped my hand over my mouth.
Stifling the tidal wave of sobs that threatened to drown me.
I told him: Id like your signature Beef and Barley Stew, Dad.
He would never know.
That phone call.
Gave me a third chance at life.
I stayed at the old house for a week. Seraphina still hadnt replied.
I realized I needed to push her.
So.
I returned to the house that had witnessed all my humiliation.
But this time, the moment I pushed the door open.
I heard Blakes feigned voice of concern:
Sera, are you sure about swapping your actual wedding photo with this fake one of us? Asher already hates me. Seeing this is going to make him even angrier.
He
She stopped mid-sentence.
She saw me standing in the foyer.
She pressed her lips together, then said stiffly, It was a team-building forfeit. This picture has to stay up for a month.
The full-wall wedding photo of us had been tossed carelessly by the sofa.
In its place.
Was a clearly photoshopped picture of Blake and Seraphina embracing on a beach, styled as an engagement photo.
I didnt say a word.
I walked past Blake, picked up the discarded wedding photowhich looked exactly like a piece of trashand walked outside.
Then.
I smashed the glass frame with my bare fist, pulled out the photo, and tore it into confetti, piece by piece.
Seraphinas chest tightened as she watched.
An unfamiliar sense of dread washed over her.
She strode forward and grabbed my wrist.
Asher Cole, what are you doing?!
Cleaning up the garbage.
Stop making a scene, okay? Seraphinas eyes were full of reproach, as if she were making a monumental concession. Asher, as soon as this project is done, Ill send him overseas. We can go back to how things were, alright?
How things were?
Was it when I was hospitalized with acute pancreatitis, and she abandoned an important board meeting to keep vigil by my bedside for three days?
Or was it when I was being viciously cyberbullied, and she used all her resources to suppress the media, shielding me and saying, Asher, dont be afraid. Ill always stand in front of you.
She had seen me at my worst, broken and barely human during my first depressive episode.
She knew the entire, ugly story of the root cause.
And yet she eventually said
He learned his lesson.
Give him a chance to redeem himself.
She expected me to forgive Blake while she was busy falling into bed with him.
She helped him slice me up, one paper cut at a time.
Seraphina, we cant go back.
There was no emotion on my face.
I said calmly, Well get the divorce finalized after Dads birthday celebration. Otherwise, I will file a lawsuit.
I will never agree to a divorce. Dont even think about it!
Seraphinas eyes were shadowed and cold as she said this.
She didn't notice the look of theatrical amusement on Blakes face behind her.
The conversation was over.
I had nothing more to say.
In front of her, I booked a deep-cleaning service right then and there.
As I left, I instructed the cleaner: Remove every single photo of me, every single item that belongs to me. Everything.
I left without a backward glance at Seraphina.
In the blink of an eye.
It was Dads sixtieth birthday party.
I arrived early to help him welcome guests, fulfilling my role as the Maxwell son-in-law.
But Seraphina arrived with Blake in tow.
Meeting my gaze, she looked slightly guilty. She quickly explained:
Blake wanted to apologize to you and Dad in person. Hell leave right after saying his well wishes. You dont have to pay any attention to him.
Thats right, Asher. I came here specifically to make amends. I heard you didnt like the mousse, so I prepared a different gift.
He walked toward me, a cheerful smile plastered on his face.
He stopped half a meter away.
He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Asher Cole, lets make a bet. If you win, I walk away from Sera for good. If you lose, you vanish forever. What do you say?
What are you tryin
Before I could finish.
Blake tore open a small jewelry box.
He pulled out a utility knife and violently shoved the handle into my hand.
Guess what happens if you injure me? Will Seraphina hate you forever?
My face blanched. I instinctively struggled to pull my hand away.
Ah! It hurts! Asher, why are you doing this to me
Before I could even process what was happening.
Seraphina, like a gale force wind, charged at me.
The next second.
A searing, ripping pain exploded in my abdomen.
A rush of warm liquid gushed out.
I looked down at the knife handle buried in my stomach.
I tried to call her name, but I could only slump weakly to the floor.
My vision blurred. As my consciousness faded completely, I saw her anxiously supporting Blake, who had only a minor scratch on his hand. She rushed toward the exit without turning back.

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