A Rare Echo

After my diagnosis of Emotional Apathy Syndrome, my feelings grew dull. When Gideon favored his first love, Lorelei, I stayed calm. Even seeing him give her our tenth-anniversary diamond ring drew no tears.

He rarely came home, always claiming, Lorelei is afraid of the dark. When I called to tell him about my condition, Lorelei answered his phone. "Gideon is in the shower," she mocked sweetly. "Call back later."

I hung up and let him bring her as his plus-one to our anniversary gala. Before the guests, he wrapped his arm around her waist. "Marrying you was punishment for losing a bet. Lorelei is my only love. You have played Mrs. Harrington for ten years. Be satisfied."

Lorelei giggled against his chest, triumphant. I simply smiled, picked up the photo album I had compiled, and dropped it into the champagne bucket. In my mind, memories of Gideon were dissolving. Soon, I would forget him and our agonizing ten years entirely.

On the ride back to the estate, I voluntarily opened the front passenger door and gestured for Lorelei to take the seat.

Gideon was used to my sharp tongue, my hysterical outbursts, and the desperate way I used to fight for his attention whenever Lorelei was around. My sudden grace and indifference only seemed to irritate him.

Once we pulled up to the driveway and Lorelei stepped away, I turned to him and spoke quietly.

"I'm not angry, Gideon. And I'm certainly not jealous."

Lorelei lingered by the porch, her voice trembling with manufactured tears.

"Gideon, did I do something wrong? Fiona seems to despise me. Maybe I should just check into a hotel."

Gideon caught her by the hand, his voice laced with cold impatience as he looked at me.

"Why should you leave? This is your home now."

He strode over and grabbed my wrist, his grip tightening.

"Fiona, don't think you can play these reverse psychology games with me. My parents forced me to marry you back then. Now that Lorelei is back, you need to grow up and accept it."

My eyes remained flat, reflecting nothing.

"I understand. Let her move in. I'll pack my things and let her have the master bedroom as well."

A flicker of suspicion crossed his features.

"I'll say it one more time. Pretending to be saintly won't work on me. If you're upset, throw a tantrum. Cry. Scream. I can easily buy you whatever designer bags or jewelry you want to make up for it."

Lorelei stepped up, resting her hand on Gideon's arm.

"Fiona, how could I possibly take the master bedroom? That wouldn't be right."

Gideon let out a cold snort.

"Since you're so eager to play the generous wife, Lorelei and I will sleep in the master suite tonight."

He pulled her along, leaving me standing in the cold hallway.

Deep within my mind, another piece of my memory of him shattered and faded into mist.

That night, I booked a moving service for the following morning and purchased a one-way ticket to Europe, scheduled for one week from today.

When I walked out of the guest room the next morning, Lorelei was already sorting through a cardboard box by the stairs. It was filled with the countless gifts Gideon had given me over the years.

"Fiona," she cooed, clutching a soft velvet throw pillow to her chest. "This is so comfortable. Gideon said I could have it."

I stared at the pillow. Three years ago, Gideon and I had found it at a flea market during a rare weekend trip. He had argued with the vendor for half an hour just to get it for me, eventually laughing as he tucked it into my arms, promising he would hold me just as tightly for the rest of his life.

Now, as I looked at the handmade music box and the intricate wooden carvings he had crafted for me, the emotions attached to those memories felt as though they were being systematically extracted from my brain.

"If you like it, keep it," I said, my voice empty of cadence. "It's all just old junk anyway."

I took my car keys and turned back toward the guest room. Gideon stepped into my path, blocking the doorway.

"Fiona, what is wrong with you?" he demanded. "Before this, if Lorelei so much as looked at me, you would scream and fight with me for three days. Now I bring her into our home, and you don't even have a single question?"

I looked at him, finding the confusion on his face almost amusing.

"Isn't this exactly what you always wanted, Gideon? No fighting, no drama. Isn't this better?"

He stood frozen, unable to find a reply.

I closed the door, shutting out his gaze.

By the next morning, the moving truck was idling outside the villa. My belongings were packed into just two small boxes resting at my feet.

Gideon emerged from the master bedroom, his face dark with fury when he saw the boxes.

"Fiona, have you had your fun yet? Put your things back before I lose my temper."

The boy I had loved in my youth had become an unrecognizable shadow. I bent down to tape the box shut.

"Let's get a divorce, Gideon. I'll have my lawyer mail the papers to your office in a few days."

Lorelei gasped dramatically from the hallway, though she couldn't quite hide the spark of delight in her eyes.

Gideon's expression turned murderous. "What did you just say?"

"I said, we are getting a divorce. I'll send you the paperwork."

"Fiona, you're getting bold, trying to threaten me with divorce," he sneered, stepping closer. "It was just a ring. I already told you I would compensate you. What are you still throwing a tantrum for?"

I met his anger with a long, hollow silence.

Eventually, his patience snapped, and he slammed the front door as he left.

With the sound of that slam, the details of his face seemed to blur even further in my mind. I realized I could no longer remember what his smile looked like.

"We can go," I told the mover.

As the truck rolled down the driveway, I didn't look back.

My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. It was a text from Gideon.

Be at the Grand Plaza Hotel at eight tonight. It's Lorelei's birthday. If you still want to keep your title as Mrs. Harrington, you will show up on time.

I stared at the screen for a moment, then quietly blocked his number.

Gideon, from this moment on, you are nothing but a stranger.

That night, I scrolled past my friends' social media posts showing updates from the party. It was a lavish affair, far grander than any anniversary or birthday Gideon had ever given me. In one video, he was down on one knee, presenting Lorelei with a massive bouquet of white roses.

My best friend called me, crying on my behalf, furious at the injustice of it all. I listened to her sob, but my own chest remained light and hollow.

The next afternoon, the head housekeeper of the Harrington estate called my temporary number, her voice tight with panic.

"Fiona, please come to the manor immediately! Madam Beatrice has collapsed, and she keeps calling your name!"

My mind immediately conjured the warm, gentle face of Gideon's grandmother. She was the only person in that entire family who had ever treated me with genuine kindness, always holding my hand and telling me to come to her whenever I felt wronged.

"I'm on my way," I said, grabbing my coat.

When I stepped into the grand parlor of the estate, the sound of Lorelei's giggling echoed through the room.

"Grandmother, Gideon flew this rare wellness tea in from abroad especially for you. Please try some."

Gideon sat on the adjacent sofa, looking bored. When he noticed me enter, his posture stiffened slightly, and his mouth curved into a familiar sneer.

"So you finally decided to show up? I thought you were far too proud to care whether Grandmother lived or died."

Grandmother Beatrice looked up, a soft smile gracing her wrinkled face when she saw me.

"Fiona, dear, come sit by me. I'm perfectly fine, just a slight spell of high blood pressure. Gideon was just overreacting and insisted on bringing you back here."

Lorelei chimed in, her tone dripping with sweet poison.

"Yes, Fiona. Gideon was simply worried about Grandmother. But you've been so busy lately, you haven't even had time to visit her."

She was clearly painting me as the unfilial, cold-hearted wife. In the past, I would have desperately tried to explain myself, sick with the fear of Gideon's disapproval.

Now, I merely offered a polite smile.

"Since you have so much free time on your hands, Lorelei, perhaps you can fulfill those duties in my place."

Lorelei's smile faltered, and she looked toward Gideon with wide, wounded eyes.

"Gideon..."

Gideon set his newspaper down, his gaze drilling into me.

"Fiona, did you forget to take your medication today? Lorelei was only trying to help, and this is how you treat her?"

I looked him dead in the eye.

"My attitude is perfectly fine."

Grandmother Beatrice looked between us, her brow furrowing.

"Gideon, Fiona, have you two been fighting?"

"No, Grandmother," Gideon lied smoothly. He stood up, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me out into the private garden.

"You returned the secondary credit card, blocked my number, and now you won't even show respect at the family estate?" he hissed, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Do you honestly think I won't go through with a divorce? Have you forgotten about your brother lying in that hospital bed?"

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

"Every single dollar of his medical bills comes from my family's pocket. Without that money, he won't survive three days."

He was entirely certain he held the leash.

At the mention of my little brother, Toby, a sharp, localized pang of grief pierced through the numbness of my chest. It was a fleeting, agonizing reminder of the love I once felt.

I looked up at him, and to his surprise, I let out a soft laugh.

"Gideon, my brother died six months ago."

The smug triumph on his face froze, replaced by a sudden, chaotic panic.

"What? Why wasn't I told?"

I stared at him, the last remnants of my affection evaporating into the autumn air.

"Because you were busy watching the penguins in Antarctica with Lorelei. You don't have to worry about my family anymore, Gideon. We are entirely even."

I took a step back.

"We are done."

A rare flash of embarrassment crossed his face.

"I'm... I'm sorry about your brother. I truly didn't know."

"You only care about things that involve Lorelei," I said. "You've never known anything about my life."

His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened with a sudden, ugly suspicion.

"Are you so determined to get this divorce because there is someone else?"

The sheer insult of his words broke through my apathy. Before I could process the impulse, my hand swung out and delivered a sharp, resounding slap across his face.

The sound cracked through the quiet garden.

"I simply do not love you anymore," I said.

Gideon clutched his burning cheek, his eyes wide with utter disbelief.

"That's impossible. You loved me more than anything."

He was right. I had loved him once, with a desperation that consumed my entire youth.

In the early days of our marriage, under Grandmother's guidance, we had shared genuine happiness. He would bring home the pastries I casually mentioned wanting, and I would stay up all night cooking porridge for him whenever his stomach flared up. We had loved each other with a clumsy, earnest devotion.

But every year, Lorelei would return, and every year, the scale would tip in her favor. His blatant, unapologetic preference for her slowly eroded every ounce of love I had to give.

Ten years of devotion, systematically destroyed by a thousand quiet disappointments.

Gideon remained standing in the garden, staring at me as if I were a stranger.

"That was a long time ago," I said, and walked away.

The next afternoon, Gideon sat in his high-rise office, staring out at the San Francisco skyline. His secretary stood by his desk, speaking in a hesitant whisper.

"Mr. Harrington, the real estate agent confirmed that Mrs. Harrington has officially listed her downtown apartment for sale."

Gideon's hand clenched around his gold pen.

"What else is she selling?"

"All of the high-end jewelry and designer watches you gifted her over the years. She took them to a luxury consignment shop to be liquidated for cash."

Gideon snapped the pen in half, his face turning a dangerous shade of red.

That evening, as I was drying my hair in my hotel room, my phone rang with an unrecognized number. I answered it, and Gideon's furious voice boomed through the speaker.

"Fiona, you are getting entirely out of hand. You dare to block my number?"

I pulled the phone slightly away from my ear, keeping my voice level.

"Is there something you need, Mr. Harrington?"

The formal address seemed to strike him like a physical blow. The line went silent for a few seconds before he snarled, "What did you just call me? We are not divorced yet. I am still your husband!"

"Not for much longer," I said, and disconnected the call.

A moment later, a text message arrived from another unknown number.

Fiona, stop playing games. Gideon is already exhausted by your pathetic attempts to get his attention.

Attached was a photo.

In the image, Lorelei was wearing a silk nightgown, smiling sweetly at the camera as she curled into Gideon's arm on a plush hotel bed. Gideon's eyes were closed, seemingly asleep, though his brow was furrowed even in rest.

A sudden knock sounded at my door.

Thinking it was room service, I pulled the door open, only for Gideon to barge in, slamming the door behind him and pushing me back onto the bed.

Before I could speak, he grabbed my hand and began violently shoving several diamond rings onto my fingers.

"Fiona, what will it take to make you stop this?" he demanded, his voice cracking with a mixture of rage and desperation. He was trying to use these rings to erase the memory of the one he had given to Lorelei.

When I didn't answer, his eyes flared with anger, and he leaned down to kiss me.

I gathered all my strength, wrenched my hands free, and struck him across the face again.

He stumbled back, the anger in his eyes suddenly giving way to a profound, broken defeat.

"My relationship with Lorelei is complicated," he whispered, his head bowed. "I can't just cut her out of my life completely. But she will never take your place as my wife. Why can't you just accept that?"

Before I could reply, his phone began to ring.

It was Lorelei. Her tearful, whimpering voice was easily audible in the quiet room.

"Gideon... where are you? My stomach hurts so badly..."

Gideon looked at me, torn, before stepping toward the door.

"I'll be right there," he murmured into the phone, and rushed out, leaving the scent of his expensive cologne lingering in the air.

I quietly slipped the diamond rings off my fingers and listed them on a local resale app.

The next day, the specialist at the clinic stared at my brain scans, letting out a long, heavy sigh.

"If this progression continues, you will lose not only your emotional capacity but your cognitive memory as well," the doctor warned. "While the condition isn't fatal, it will make it incredibly difficult to live a normal life."

I offered a small smile, realizing that even the muscles in my face felt heavy and unresponsive.

"That's alright. Perhaps it's for the best."

I took my bag of medication and walked out of the clinic. As I rounded the corner of the sterile hallway, I collided with someone.

"Fiona? What are you doing here?"

Gideon's voice cut through the quiet corridor, dripping with immediate suspicion. Beside him stood Lorelei, wearing a hospital gown, looking pale and fragile.

"Gideon, is Fiona sick?" Lorelei asked, bending down to reach for the pill bottle that had fallen from my hand.

"It's none of your concern," I said, retrieving the bottle before she could touch it.

Gideon's expression darkened.

"Fiona, are you tracking us now? Is there no limit to how low you'll stoop?"

I looked at him with absolute indifference.

"I came here to see my doctor. I don't have the time or the energy to follow you."

Gideon let out a harsh laugh, snatching the paper bag of medication from my hands.

"You're pretending to be ill just to get my attention. This is pathetic, Fiona. Stop dragging this out."

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed my medication into a nearby biohazard bin.

"You disgust me."

As the bag hit the bottom of the bin, the last remaining memories of Gideon in my mind began to dissolve, turning into nothing but gray, lifeless smoke.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and walked away.

A few days later, my attorney called.

"Fiona, Mr. Harrington is refusing to sign the dissolution papers."

"I see," I replied, staring at the IV drip in my arm.

My memory was deteriorating much faster than the doctors had predicted. I was starting to forget simple thingswhere I had left my keys, what I had eaten for breakfast, the faces of casual acquaintances.

As I sat in a quiet cafe downtown, staring at the cold latte in front of my hands, I realized I couldn't remember when I had ordered it.

The squeal of tires cut through my thoughts. Gideon strode into the cafe, grabbed me by the arm, and pulled me toward his car.

"You're coming with me to Grandmother's birthday gala," he commanded as the car sped onto the highway. "Her health is fragile. I won't have you stressing her with talk of a divorce."

I didn't argue. I didn't have the energy to fight him.

The Harrington manor was alight with grand decorations. Luxury cars lined the private drive, and the ballroom was packed with the city's elite.

As I walked in beside Gideon, whispering voices immediately rippled through the crowd.

"Look, the wife actually showed up."

"I heard Gideon has been living with the Lorelei girl. I thought the wife would have been thrown out by now."

"It's a complete mess."

I remained entirely untroubled by their whispers. Gideon, however, looked tense, his hand dropping to grip my waist in a performative display of unity.

"Fiona, sweetheart, come here," Grandmother Beatrice called from her seat at the head of the main table, waving me over.

I walked over and handed her the gift Gideon's assistant had prepared for me.

"Happy birthday, Grandmother. I wish you many more years of health and happiness."

The elderly woman took my hand, her eyes shining with warmth.

But before she could speak, a commotion at the entrance drew everyone's attention. Lorelei stepped into the ballroom, holding a beautifully wrapped silk box. She walked directly to Grandmother Beatrice.

"Happy birthday, Grandmother," she said, her voice carrying across the quiet room. "I personally brought this rare herbal elixir from Switzerland for you. I hope it brings you strength."

Grandmother's smile faded slightly, and she gave a polite, distant nod.

"Thank you, Lorelei."

Lorelei's jaw tightened slightly at the cold reception. She turned her gaze to me, her eyes sweeping over my simple black dress.

"Fiona, you look lovely tonight. Did Gideon pick out that dress for you?"

She was wearing a custom couture gown, clearly trying to highlight the stark contrast between us.

"Lorelei, you aren't fully recovered yet. Why did you come?" Gideon stepped forward, his arm immediately finding her waist, his voice filled with genuine concern.

As Lorelei moved past me, her heel caught on the edge of the carpet. With a dramatic cry, she stumbled directly toward the grand champagne tower nearby.

"Ah!"

The delicate crystal tower began to collapse. Without a second thought, Gideon lunged forward, throwing his body over Lorelei to shield her from the falling glass.

The heavy crystal glasses shattered over my head, drenching me in sticky champagne, the sharp shards slicing deep cuts into my exposed arms.

"Fiona! Why did you push her?" Gideon roared, looking up from where he held Lorelei in his arms.

But as his eyes fell on my bleeding arms and soaked dress, his anger faltered, replaced by a sudden flicker of guilt. He turned to the head housekeeper.

"Get the medical kit! Clean her up!"

The housekeeper rushed over with the kit, but I politely pushed her hands away. I turned to Grandmother Beatrice, offering a shallow bow.

"Grandmother, I'm feeling slightly unwell. Please excuse me."

Grandmother looked at my bleeding arms and ruined dress, her eyes filled with deep sorrow.

"Go, child. Go take care of your wounds. Have the driver take you."

"There's no need," I said quietly. "I'll take a taxi."

Gideon tried to follow me as I walked toward the exit, but I reached into my bag, pulled out the thick brown envelope, and pressed it into his chest.

"Goodbye, Gideon."

I walked out into the cool night air, leaving him behind.

It wasn't until I was sitting in the airport lounge, waiting for my flight to Finland, that I realized I had accidentally left my medical diagnosis files inside that brown envelope along with the divorce papers.

I stared out the window at the dark tarmac.

It didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore.

The engines roared to life, and the plane began its long ascent into the sky.

Gideon, this is the last time we will ever exist in the same world.