Leaving Him

Three years after our wedding, my pilot husband, Vernon, had stood me up at City Hall eighteen times.
The first time, his female apprentice was on a test flight. I waited at the courthouse all day.
The second time, he got a call from her, made a sharp U-turn, and left me on the side of the road.
After that, it became a pattern. Every time we scheduled a day to get our marriage license, something would "happen" to his apprentice.
Eventually, I decided to leave him.
But when I boarded the plane to Paris, he chased me across the world, a man unhinged.

01
Wed had a wedding three years ago, but Vernon had never made it legal.
Today was a milestone: his one-thousandth successful flight. It was also the seventeenth time he had promised we would finally get our marriage license.
But at his celebration dinner, while his direct supervisor was pressuring me to drink, Vernon was busy trading bites of food and feeding sips of wine to his apprentice, Serena.
I was fighting a high fever, drinking until I was about to pass out, and he didnt even glance my way. I could see the pity in our colleagues eyes. It was painfully obvious to everyone who I was doing this for.
When the dinner finally ended, Vernon, who was supposed to drive us straight to City Hall, bailed on me once again. He pulled the car up to the restaurant entrance, then held up a hand to stop me from getting in.
Serena drank too much for me tonight. Im taking her home, he said, his tone clipped. You can just grab a cab.
He didn't stop there. We probably wont make it to the courthouse this afternoon. Well do it another day.
Without waiting for my reaction, he got out, walked around the car, and gently helped his apprentice into the passenger seat.
Eight years together, three years of a supposed marriage. This was the seventeenth time Vernon had postponed our life together for Serena.
Normally, this would be my cue to break down, to scream and cry, to demand to know who his real wife was, who had just spent the entire evening taking metaphorical bullets for him.
But this time, I just smiled faintly. Okay. Drive safe.
Vernon flinched, surprised by my calm reaction, but his face quickly hardened back into its usual indifference. Ill pick up a gift for you on my way home tonight to make it up to you.
He slid into the driver's seat and sped off, but not before carefully rolling up the passenger-side window, shielding his drunk apprentice from the wind.
He used to hate the smell of alcohol in his car. Any time I took a drink for him, he would lower the convertible top, even in the dead of winter. He certainly never would have rolled the window up.
I realize now it was never about the smell. It was just about the person in the car.
The midday Atlanta heat was suffocating, making sweat bead on my skin, but my heart felt like a block of ice.
I took a deep breath and tucked the marriage license application back into my purse.
I knew then that it was time to let go of our eight years together.

02
That afternoon, I went straight back to the office and handed my supervisor my resignation letter.
Does Vernon know youre leaving? he asked, shocked. After all, I had been the airline's top-rated flight attendant for seven consecutive years. My future here was bright.
I offered a sad smile. Ill tell him tonight. Not that hell care.
I just dont get it, he sighed, his voice full of regret. You two pioneered new routes together, won Best Crew awards. Three years ago, even the CEO came to your wedding. Everyone was so envious of you both, but now
He was right. Those were beautiful memories.
But memories were all they were. There was no going back.
It was after ten by the time I got home from the office. The house was dark and silent. Empty.
Then my phone screen lit up. A notification from Serenas latest post, where she had pointedly tagged me.
Thanks to my amazing mentor for spending the whole afternoon with me! To pay you back, Im taking you to the Coldplay concert tomorrow! So excited ~
I knew then that Vernon wouldnt be coming home, despite his promise. This had happened more times than I could count over the past three years.
I made some instant ramen and opened my laptop. My inbox was filled with offers from more than a dozen international airlines. My cursor hovered over the email from Air France, and without a second thought, I clicked Accept. Then I booked a one-way ticket to Paris, departing in two days.
Five years ago, on a flight to Paris, Vernon had faced the worst crisis of his career. Since that day, the word "Paris" had become taboo. He refused to fly there, and he made sure I never did either.
Paris it is, Vernon, I thought. This way, well never have to see each other again.

03
The next morning, I woke up and started packing.
I was halfway through when Vernon walked in, wearing a crisp pink shirt. A heavy cloud of rose perfume followed him through the door.
The scent hit me, and I froze.
He used to despise perfume. Because of him, I hadnt worn a single drop in years. Id even thrown out my entire treasured collection.
It was clear now. He didnt hate perfume. He just hated it on me.
He saw my suitcases and stopped short. Serena took a long time to sober up last night. I got a hotel room instead of coming home, he offered, a flicker of something in his eyes.
I looked up at him, surprised. It was the first time in three years hed bothered to explain himself.
I just nodded, saying nothing.
He walked over to me, his eyes on my bags. Packing for a flight?
Something like that, I said.
He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. I have to run an errand today, he said, his relief palpable. I just came back to grab something. I wont be staying for lunch.
Okay.
I didnt look up, just kept folding clothes. I had planned to tell him Id quit during lunch, to finally put an end to our eight years. It seemed I wouldnt get the chance.
Vernon grabbed a red gift bag from the closet, picked up his jacket from the hook by the door, and rushed out.
CRASH!
As the front door clicked shut, the photo frame that had hung there for eight years suddenly crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.
I looked over at the mess of splintered glass. It was a picture of Vernon and me at our first concert together, our hands clasped, faces beaming with joy. He had promised me that day that no matter how busy he got, we would go to a concert together every single year.
Hed forgotten all about that promise the moment Serena became his apprentice.
The only sound in the empty room was the ticking of the clock.
After a long silence, I swept up the shards of glass and threw the smiling photo, along with the last vestiges of my broken heart, into the trash.

04
That evening, exhausted after finishing my packing, I was lying in bed when my best friend called.
What the hell is wrong with Vernon? This is too much, Chloe! Look at his story! Hes all over Serena, that little fox. Her voice was vibrating with rage. Youre not even divorced yet! How could he do this?
I opened my phone. The first story on my feed was Serenas.
In the photo, she was wearing a Van Cleef & Arpels clover necklace. In her hands was the red gift bag Vernon had come home to get that morning. So thats what it was for. A concert gift for Serena.
Her caption read: Three years since we met, and Im so lucky to have you. Happy third anniversary, Vernon! ?
And then it hit me.
Three years?
Yes. Today was also my third wedding anniversary with Vernon. An anniversary we had never once celebrated. An anniversary I had completely forgotten myself.
I let out a long breath. He doesnt need a divorce, Jessica, I said quietly. We never got the license.
What?
Youve been married for three years, and he never legally married you?
Her shriek nearly deafened me.
Yes. Three years since the wedding. And seventeen times he had stood me up at the courthouse.

05
Vernon came home at eleven, unusually early for him.
He took off his jacket and turned to hang it on the hook behind the door. He froze, his hand hovering in mid-air, staring at the empty space where our photo used to be.
Wheres our picture? he asked, a strange panic in his voice as he walked into the bedroom, still holding his jacket.
It fell. It broke.
He glanced at the trash can by the door and saw the broken glass. A look of relief washed over his face. He tossed his jacket aside and produced a shopping bag with an LV box inside.
I didnt get a chance to give you your gift yesterday, he said. And since today is our third wedding anniversary this is for you. Happy anniversary.
He placed the bag on the bed. For a moment, I thought Id misheard him. After three years, he actually remembered our anniversary?
But then I saw the receipt peeking out of the bag. The purchase time was from half an hour ago. He must have seen Serenas post and been reminded, picking up a gift on his way home.
He didnt know I already owned two of this exact same bag.
I just stared at him, silent.
Oh, right, he started, his tone shifting. The annual airline awards are coming up. I was wondering if youd consider stepping down this year? Serenas been in the industry for three years now, and her biggest dream is to win Best Flight Attendant, just like you. Youve won it so many years in a row maybe you could let her have it this year?
He stumbled over the words, avoiding my eyes.
A bitter laugh caught in my throat. So, this last-minute gift came with a price tag after all.
Fine, I said calmly.
Not just this year. Next year, the year after that I would never compete with her for another award. Because after tonight, I would be gone.
You you agree?
My quick acceptance seemed to throw him off. He kept stealing glances at me from the corner of his eye. He couldnt leave it alone.
I mean, shes my apprentice, youre her mentors wife. Its only right, he said, as if trying to convince himself.
By the way, Im not flying tomorrow. Lets go to the courthouse in the morning and get the license.
I said nothing.
He seemed to remember my packing. His voice softened. Oh, I almost forgot. You have a flight tomorrow, dont you? What time?
Three in the afternoon.
I looked at him, steeling myself to use this last chance to tell him I was leaving. But before I could speak, his phone rang.
It was Serena. Her high-pitched, whiny voice drifted through the phone. Shed gotten her period and didnt have any pads. She needed Vernons help.
He hung up and looked at me, a guilty expression on his face. Uh Serena has a bit of an emergency. Shes all alone and cant handle it. I should probably go over there. For the first time, his voice held a trace of a question, as if seeking my permission.
I swallowed the words I was about to say and forced a smile. Its fine. You should go.
Relief washed over his face. He stood up immediately. A three oclock flight gives you plenty of time, he said as he walked to the door. Tomorrow, ten AM. Well get the license. I promise, this time, no matter what happens, Ill be there.
A bitter smile touched my lips. He wouldnt even give me the chance to break up with him face-to-face.
The next morning, I packed my last bag. I didnt go to the courthouse. I went straight to the airport.
By noon, I still hadnt received a single call from Vernon asking why I hadnt shown up.
It wasn't until I was boarding my flight that a message from him finally came through: Hey, sorry. Serena wasnt feeling well this morning, I just got back from taking her to the hospital. We missed our appointment. As soon as you get back from your trip, Ill take you to the courthouse first thing.
I read the message, my heart a placid lake.
Of course. The eighteenth time was a no-show, too.
Dont bother, Vernon, I typed back. Ive resigned. Im on my way to Paris. After today, we will never see each other again.
I sent the message and prepared to turn off my phone.
But a second later, the chat window, which had been silent for so long, began to vibrate uncontrollably.

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