When She Came Too Late

After I got married, my wife and I always slept in separate rooms.

At first, I asked her if she could move into the master bedroom.

She refused me without hesitation.

No need. Caleb would mind.

If it weren't for you back then, we wouldn't have ended up like this. Let's just leave it this way.

Caleb was her first love.

I froze in place and, after a long while, finally said okay.

Later, I thought that this marriage was only there to help my family get through a cash flow crisis and, by the way, solve the thorny lawsuit her company was dealing with.

It was just a matter of each of us getting what we needed.

Once it was done, we would naturally go our separate ways.

After that, I never brought it up again.

For the next three years, she took him with her to every event she attended.

Family dinners, company parties, even my dad's birthday, he was the one standing beside her.

Everyone kept guessing who the real man of the house was.

Now it was finally clear.

Everything that needed to be solved had been solved.

It was time for me to leave.

I sat in my study and read through the divorce agreement from beginning to end once more.

Black and white, clear and orderly.

In the property division section, I didn't take a single thing.

This house, which I had owned before the marriage, went to her, the car went to her, and the company shares had nothing to do with me.

All I needed to take was my own savings.

I signed my name on the agreement.

Ethan Carter.

Three years ago, I had still been full of hope that even if this marriage started with, maybe I could make it work.

I was really stupid back then.

I put the agreement into a file folder and set it on the table.

Then I took out my phone and opened the chat with her.

"Come home early today. I have something I want to talk to you about."

Then about two minutes later, one word popped up beside her avatar.

"Okay."

I turned off my phone and threw it onto the sofa.

I turned around and went to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water.

The kitchen was huge, with a side-by-side fridge, a built-in oven, and German-imported cookware, all arranged neatly.

But I hardly ever used it.

When we first got married, I tried cooking a few times, thinking she could eat something hot when she got home.

The first dish I made was braised ribs. She took one bite and said it was okay.

Then she answered a call and left, saying Caleb had something going on.

The second time I made sauerkraut fish, she didn't come home at all.

The third time I made a full table of dishes, busy from four in the afternoon until seven at night.

She did come back, but Caleb was behind her.

The two of them walked in laughing and talking. When she saw the full table of dishes, she froze for a second and then said, "We already had plans. We're going out to eat."

Caleb stood behind her, tilting his head at me, and said with a smile, "You worked hard."

I still feel a sour ache in my stomach whenever I think about that smile now.

After that, I never cooked again.

At seven that night, she still hadn't come home.

At eight, still not home.

At nine, my phone rang.

I picked it up and looked at it. It was a message from her.

"Something came up with Caleb, so I'll be back later. Go to sleep first. No need to wait up for me."

I stared at that message for a long time.

"Go to sleep first. No need to wait up for me."

I heard that sentence for three years.

Every time it was like this, and every time it was Caleb.

Something was always going on with him, and she was always the one who had to go take care of it.

Once Caleb said he wanted cake from that shop on the west side of the city, and she drove forty minutes to buy it, took it to his apartment, and only came home after he finished eating.

By then it was already one in the morning.

I asked her, "Did you eat dinner?"

She said, "I ate over at Caleb's place."

Then she took a shower and went into the study.

I should have understood then.

But I didn't.

I always thought that since we were married, we should at least give each other some time.

Maybe after enough time passed, she would realize I wasn't that bad.

Maybe if I did enough, she would be willing to look back at this family.

Now that I think about it, if a person doesn't have a place in your heart at all, then no matter how well you do, it's all useless.

She wouldn't like you just because you were outstanding. She would only feel that your excellence had nothing to do with her.

I didn't reply to her message.

Before, I would always reply with a simple okay to show I understood.

Sometimes I would even add a line saying then be careful, to make myself look generous and considerate.

But today, I didn't want to reply.

Anyway, in a few days, I wouldn't even be receiving her messages anymore.

I put my phone on the table and picked up the remote to change the channel.

A variety show was playing on TV, with a few celebrities on stage joking around and laughing extra loudly.

I leaned back on the sofa and suddenly thought the whole scene was absurd.

I was sitting in this two-thousand-square-foot house, clinging to a marriage in name only, waiting for a woman who would never put me in her heart to come home.

And she was with her first love.

Openly with him, and confidently so.

Because when we got married, she had made it very clear: if it weren't for you back then, we wouldn't have ended up like this.

What she meant was that I had broken her and Caleb apart.

I had stepped in and forced them to separate.

I had used my familys influence and that lawsuit to harden the bind that tied her to a marriage certificate.

But what was the truth?

The truth was that my dad's company had run into a cash flow breakdown and urgently needed a large sum of money to keep things moving.

And her family's company had gotten tangled up in a troublesome lawsuit that needed my family's connections to smooth over.

The elders from both families sat down for a meal and settled the marriage.

No one asked me if I wanted to get married.

And no one asked her if she was willing to marry.

But in everyone else's eyes, this was a fair deal.

Her family put in money, my family put in connections, and each side got what it needed.

Only Caleb became the sacrifice in this deal.

She probably thought I had stolen his place, that I had turned him from the legitimate boyfriend into a first love that had to stay in the dark.

So she gave all her guilt to Caleb and left all her coldness for me.

On our wedding night, she drank a lot and was helped into the bedroom.

I helped her out of her dress, and she suddenly grabbed my wrist with frightening strength.

"Ethan Carter."

She said my full name, her voice hoarse.

"You know exactly what this marriage is about. I don't love you, and I never will. If you know what's good for you, just go to work and stay out of the way. We'll stay out of each other's business."

Then she let go of my hand and staggered into the guest room.

From then on, we kept sleeping in separate rooms.

She slept in the guest room, and I slept in the master bedroom.

I suddenly remembered that in three years, she had only walked into this master bedroom twice.

The first time was on our wedding night, when she came in to say all that.

The second time was last year, when I had a fever that shot up to 103.1, and my whole body was dazed and heavy.

The housekeeper called her, and she came back two hours later, stood at the bedroom door, looked at me once, and then told the housekeeper to take me to the hospital.

She left again after that.

She said there was an important party on Caleb's side, and she had to be there.

She didn't come home again that night.

When I woke up at seven the next morning, I looked at my phone and there was no message at all.

After washing up, I went downstairs, and the housekeeper was already preparing breakfast.

When she saw me coming down alone, she opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she only asked, "Sir, what would you like to eat today?"

"Plain congee is fine."

I sat down at the dining table, and my phone screen lit up.

It was a message from her.

"Caleb got drunk last night, so I stayed at his place to take care of him. I have a meeting this morning, so I won't be coming back."

I put down my phone and took a sip of the plain porridge.

"Housekeeper, help me buy a few more cardboard boxes these next couple of days."

She froze for a moment. "Sir, are you moving?"

"Yeah. I'm moving in a few days."

She opened her mouth, apparently wanting to ask something, but when she saw my expression, she swallowed it back.

In these three years, she had been in this house and seen everything clearly. She understood everything.

"Okay, sir."

She answered and turned back to the kitchen.

After I finished the porridge, I went upstairs and changed clothes.

I had an appointment with a realtor today to look at apartments, and I had to find a new place to stay before I moved out of this house.

I hadn't asked for any property in the divorce agreement, but that didn't mean I was broke.

I had savings from before the marriage.

Even though I hadn't worked these past three years, the Lane family deposited twenty thousand dollars a month into my card as living expenses. I hadn't spent much of it, so I had saved more than half.

Altogether, it was enough for me to rent a decent apartment and get by for a year or so without any problem.

As for the future, I would deal with that later.

The realtor was a young guy wearing glasses, and he spoke very fast.

He showed me a two-bedroom apartment on the east side of the city, not far from downtown, in a pretty decent complex.

"Mr. Carter, this place gets amazing natural light. The landlord just renovated it, and all the furniture and appliances are brand new. The monthly rent is six thousand five hundred. What do you think?"

I stood on the balcony and looked around. The view was open, and I could see the park in the distance.

The apartment wasn't big, but it was enough for one person.

Most importantly, there was nothing here that reminded me of Nora Lane.

"Fine. I'll take this one."

The realtor clearly didn't expect me to make up my mind so quickly. He froze for a second, then smiled so hard his whole face lit up.

"Great, great. I'll contact the landlord right away and get the lease signed!"

I signed a one-year lease and paid the deposit and rent.

When I came out with the key, the sunlight was great, warm on my body.

I stood by the roadside, looking at the key in my hand, and suddenly felt lighter.

When I got home that afternoon, the housekeeper had already bought a few cardboard boxes and set them in the living room.

I was about to go upstairs and start packing the walk-in closet when I heard movement at the door.

I didn't turn around, but I had a vague feeling about what was coming.

Sure enough, the next second, a familiar voice sounded behind me.

"Well, look who's home."

I turned around.

Caleb Brooks was standing at the door.

When he saw the boxes in my hand, his eyes stayed on me for a second.

"Are you packing?"

I didn't answer his question, only asked calmly, "What are you doing here?"

"Nora Lane brought me here."

"My lease ended over there, and I haven't found a new place yet. She said I could stay here first, as long as I want."

I just nodded and said, "Oh."

Caleb clearly hadn't expected that reaction. His smile froze for a moment.

"You don't mind, do you?"

He tilted his head at me.

"Honestly, I think it's a little inconvenient too, but Nora insisted I come. She said..."

"Since she told you to come, then stay."

I cut him off.

"There are plenty of rooms here anyway."

He pressed his lips together and walked over to the sofa to sit down.

"You really are generous."

"You were generous enough to marry her back then, and now you're generous enough to let me move in."

I looked at him and suddenly found it a little funny.

I didn't answer him and turned to go upstairs.

Caleb probably felt ignored, because his voice got louder. "Ethan Carter, I'm talking to you."

I stopped and looked back at him.

"I heard you."

"But you're not here to chat with me, so why waste both our time?"

"I still have things to pack."

Caleb stood up, and the smile on his face was completely gone.

"You're leaving?" he blurted out, disbelief in his voice.

"If not?"

"Stay here and be your third wheel?"

Caleb was completely stunned.

I turned and went upstairs, leaving him standing alone in the living room.

I opened the closet and started taking out my clothes one by one.

Over the past three years, I hadn't accumulated that much.

Nora Lane had never gone on a trip with me, and she had never given me anything.

No wedding anniversaries, no birthdays, no Valentine's Day.

Now that I thought about it, it was really ridiculous.

I folded the last coat and put it into a cardboard box, just about to seal it up, when my phone rang.

I picked it up and saw a message from Nora Lane.

"I have a dinner engagement tonight, so I won't be home for dinner. Caleb just moved in, help him get settled in the guest room."

I put the phone down and kept packing.

By evening, I had almost finished clearing out the walk-in closet and the study.

When I went downstairs, Caleb was sitting on the sofa in the living room drinking coffee.

When he heard me, he looked up and his gaze landed on the divorce agreement folder in my hand.

"What is that?"

I didn't answer. I put the folder on the table, then sat down on the single sofa across from him.

Caleb stared at the folder for a few seconds, then suddenly let out a laugh.

"Divorce papers?"

I said nothing, which counted as confirmation.

His eyes lit up. That kind of brightness wasn't surprise. It was excitement.

"You're really getting divorced from her?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Once she gets home, I'll talk to her."

"This marriage was always just about each of us getting what we needed."

"Now that it's done, its better for everyone to end it sooner."

He stared at me for a long time, his expression complicated.

"Ethan Carter."

He suddenly lowered his voice.

"Do you really not like her, or are you just pretending?"

That question made me freeze for a second.

Did I not like her?

Three years ago, when we first got married, I had still been full of hope.

That woman was beautiful, accomplished, and she shone whenever she stood in a crowd.

I thought that as long as I was good enough, thoughtful enough, and considerate enough, one day she would see me.

But very quickly, I stopped expecting anything.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

I answered Caleb.

"Whether I liked her or not, it's all in the past."

At nine that night, Nora Lane came home.

At first, she looked at Caleb Brooks sitting on the sofa, and her eyes softened a little.

"Caleb, are you getting used to it?"

Caleb smiled at her, his voice sweet enough to make my teeth ache.

"It's pretty good."

Only then did Nora turn her gaze to me.

Her eyes passed over me and landed on the file folder on the table, then moved to the cardboard boxes behind me.

Her brow furrowed slightly.

"What's with those boxes?"

I stood up from the sofa, picked up the file folder from the table, and handed it to her.

"Nora, let's talk."

She didn't take the folder, only looked at me with a hint of confusion in her eyes.

"What is this?"

"Divorce papers."