When Love Becomes a Game

Today was our tenth anniversary, and our third wedding anniversary. To the outside world, Patrick and I were the perfect couple. But a string of disasters had cast a shadow over our life.

It started with Patricks friend Dylan. Hed borrowed two hundred thousand dollars from us, then gambled it all away. Patrick was devastated, apologizing repeatedly. I swallowed my own anxiety and comforted him, telling him wed figure it out.

Two weeks later, Patrick had a minor car accident. The elderly other driver demanded compensation; we eventually paid ten thousand to settle it.

A month later, Patricks father was diagnosed with kidney failure. An urgent transplant would cost around fifty thousand dollars.

I remembered ten years ago, when a boulder nearly hit us on a hike. Patrick shielded me with his body, landing him in the ICU. When he woke, he transferred all his assets to my name, saying it was to ensure my safety.

But now, three years into our marriage, he was secretly moving those same assets. I once overheard the delicate girl in his arms call me a washed-up hag, asking when Id die. Patrick soothed her, saying, Just wait a little longer.

I kept asking: what is love?

Then I saw a forum post: How do you know if he truly loves you?

The top comment read: Love is fluid. It answers to no one.

In that moment, something settled inside me. A decade, leading here. But I wouldnt accept this as my ending.

It was one thing after another, a crushing weight that left us breathless.

Patrick held me, his tears dampening my neck. "I'm so sorry, Anna," he whispered.

"I'm so sorry for dragging you through all this."

"This is nothing," I murmured, stroking his back as I transferred the money to

his parents' account. "Weve been through worse."

And we had. After grad school, Patrick caught the tech wave, co-founding Serenity

Tech with a classmate to develop stress-relief mobile games. In the early days,

they were short-staffed and had no money for employees. After a sleepless night,

I quit my stable government job and became Serenity Techs fourth employee. My

bachelor's was in accounting and my master's was in finance, so I took on

everything: administration, finance, sales, even cleaning.

At our poorest, we were crammed into a sixty-dollar-a-month basement, living on

instant ramen. I remember joking through a mouthful of noodles, "Patrick, when can

I upgrade to the cup noodles?"

His eyes had turned red, his voice thick. "Anna," hed sworn, "one day, Ill

make sure you have beef soup for breakfast, pork ribs for lunch, and Italian

steak for dinner."

Back then, the good life was just a meal with meat.

Now, six years later, Serenity Tech was on the verge of going public, thanks to

a few hit games. Wed moved from that basement to a sprawling penthouse

downtown. The recent expenses were a drop in the bucket, but old habits die

hard, and every large withdrawal still felt like a punch to the gut.

After sending the money, I let out a long sigh. "Patrick, I feel like weve had a

run of bad luck. Im going to go to the Sanctuary of Hope tomorrow and get a

charm for you."

I was a staunch atheist, but four years ago, that had changed. We were on a road

trip, driving through the mountains, when a massive rock dislodged and came

hurtling down, slamming directly onto the hood of our car. Before I could even

process what was happening, Patrick had thrown his entire body over me in the

passenger seat.

I was untouched. He was left unconscious with a severe head injury and rushed to

the ICU.

That night, the doctor told me, "He took a direct hit to the head. Theres

bleeding in his brain. If he wakes up within 24 hours, he should be fine. If

not, well have to perform surgery. And even then, there are no guarantees."

I collapsed, my legs giving out from under me, begging the doctor to save him.

He must have taken pity on me. "Miss," hed said gently, "there's a small chapel

near the north entrance. Maybe you should go there. He's down, but you need to

be strong."

I knelt in that chapel for two solid hours, praying to any god that would listen

to let Patrick wake up. I offered ten years of my life for his safety. If ten

wasn't enough, Id give twenty.

The next morning, as the first rays of dawn streamed through the hospital

window, Patricks eyes fluttered open. The tears Id held back while he was

unconscious came flooding out, and I cried until I couldn't breathe.

Once he was stable, he squeezed my hand. "Anna," he said, his voice firm, "I've

made up my mind. When I get out of here, Im putting all my assets in your

name."

I didnt understand.

He brushed a stray piece of hair from my forehead. "Anna, when I was in the

coma I could hear you. All I could think was, if I really died, what would

you do? Were not even married. My relatives would have swarmed in to fight over

my inheritance, and you would have been all alone. So Im giving everything to

you. That way, if something happens, I can rest in peace knowing you'll be taken

care of."

"Don't say that! Don't you dare leave before I do," Id choked out, tapping his

chest with a weak fist.

Hed cried out, "Oww, that hurts!"

As I leaned in, worried Id actually hurt him, he produced a diamond ring from

under his pillow. "Anna Scott," hed whispered, "will you marry Patrick Leigh?"

There was no hesitation. This man had saved my life with his own. If it wasn't

for him, I would have been the one lying in that hospital bed.

I slipped my finger through the ring. It was a perfect fit.

He pulled me into a hug, his body still trembling with the aftershock. "Babe, I

was going to propose on this trip. I guess fate had other plans. But they say

what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. From now on, I'm going to treat you

like a princess."

From that day on, I started to believe. I would stop at every church, every

chapel, not for myself, but to pray for Patricks safety.

So the next morning, I drove to the Sanctuary of Hope, the most visited

spiritual place in the city. I knelt before the altar for two hours straight.

With the blessed charm in hand, I was about to leave when I heard a small cry

from the entrance.

"Ma'am, I twisted my ankle. Can you help me?"

The girl who called out was in her early twenties, dressed in a simple white

dress, her makeup minimal. A high ponytail swung as she moved, and her fair face

had a touch of stubbornness to it, reminding me of myself right after college. I

felt an instant sense of connection and rushed over to help her up.

She thanked me profusely. "Oh, thank you so much! A lot of people just walked

past, but you were the only one who stopped. You know," she gushed, "when I saw

you, I felt this instant connection, like we were meant to be sisters."

Her enthusiasm was a little overwhelming. "It's no problem," I said, trying to

gently disengage. "Let me get security to help you."

But she suddenly gripped my hand. "Oh, by the way, my German tutor taught me a

word the other day, Seelenverwandt. I can't for the life of me remember what it

means. Do you know?"

The change in topic was abrupt, and my guard went up instantly. She was smiling

at me, but her eyes held a new glint of condescending amusement.

Id never formally studied German, but Patrick had minored in it. The very first

word he ever taught me was Seelenverwandt.

A spiritual twin. A soulmate.

Patrick used to call me his Seelenverwandt. He said our love was symbiotic, a bond

that would last until death. For years, it was our secret code, the word wed

whisper before we kissed. My pinned social media post was still the nine-photo

collage from the day we got our marriage license, the caption reading:

Congratulations to my Seelenverwandt, Mr. Leigh. You've just won the chance to

spend the rest of your life with me.

And now, a complete stranger was asking me what Seelenverwandt meant. My mind

went to the one place I didnt want it to go.

Patrick was cheating on me.

I struggled to keep my voice steady. "Do you know Patrick?"

The girl blinked innocently. "Nope, never heard of him. Oh! I just remembered I

have German homework to finish. I should get going. Can we exchange numbers,

though? If you don't mind."

She continued, her words a rapid-fire assault. "By the way, my name is Piper. My

German tutor loves calling me 'Anna.' He says Piper is peaceful, and so is Anna.

Isn't he cute? Oh, I have no filter, you'll have to forgive me. I'll call you

later to thank you properly."

Normally, I would have politely declined. But Piper had planted a seed of doubt,

and I couldnt stand uncertainty. Some things had to be brought into the light.

By the time I got home, it was evening. Patrick had said he had a business dinner

and would be home around nine. Our housekeeper, Maria, brought me a bowl of

soup. "Ma'am, the mister specifically asked me to make this for you. He said

your period is coming, and you always get bad cramps, so you need to eat well

and stay warm."

I sat at the table, lost in thought. On one hand, there was a decade of Patricks

unwavering care and affection. On the other, a stranger's vague, provocative

words. Shouldn't I give the man I shared my bed with more credit?

Maria kept chattering. "He's so good to you, ma'am. You've been married all this

time with no children, and he never pressures you. Whenever anyone asks, he just

jokes that it's his fault. If you ask me, you should hurry up and have a baby.

Otherwise, all those other women out there will be lining up to have one for

him"

I slammed my bowl down on the table. "Maria, if you're tired, perhaps it's time

for you to go home and retire!"

She shut her mouth, looking chastened. But her words had tightened the knot of

anxiety in my chest. We had been together ten years, married for three, and were

still childless. At first, it was because of the startup. Then, last year, Id

had a chemical pregnancy, a loss that happened before we even knew to be

excited. So, at the beginning of this year, I had stepped down from my role as

CFO at the company to focus on getting pregnant.

And now, I was faced with the possibility that my entire marriage was a lie.

I immediately contacted the best private investigator in the city. Whatever the

outcome, I needed the truth.

Once that was done, I tried to clear my head and idly scrolled through my phone.

The first thing I saw was a new post from Piper.

Got in trouble with my German tutor again. I forgot the meaning of

Seelenverwandt today, so my punishment is to whisper it in his ear a thousand

times. And if my pronunciation is off, I get a little swat. Can someone report a

teacher for corporal punishment?

The accompanying photo was taken in a massive floor-length mirror. A girl in a

tight, black lace dress was kneeling. Behind her stood a man in a suit, holding

a leather riding crop. The photo was artfully blurred, but the mans build was

unmistakably Patricks.

Half an hour later, another post from Piper.

Class is finally over. Im exhausted.

The picture was just the riding crop, lying on a plush surface, the leather

gleaming under the light.

I couldnt breathe. A war raged in my head.

Youve been together for ten years. Youve been through hell and back. You know

him better than anyone. How can you doubt him? He took a rock for you! He has a

permanent get-out-of-jail-free card with you!

Love is fickle. Do you really think it can withstand any temptation? Piper is

younger, prettier, has a better body. If I were a man, Id choose her too.

"Enough!" I slammed my hand on the table, my control finally snapping. The soup

bowl tipped over, red broth spilling across the wood and dripping onto the

floor. A complete mess.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

It was Patrick. He was home. The timing was perfect. Piper's "class" had just

ended, and here he was. The suspicion was so thick I couldn't even pretend to be

happy to see him. I fantasized, for a moment, about him confessing, and me

destroying everything he had ever built.

Patrick glanced at my phone screen and let out a long, heavy sigh. "Babe, I knew

this day would come. Let me explain."