Chapter 2

Jones probably didn't expect me to agree so readily. He stood there dazed, holding the divorce papers I'd signed.

Taking advantage of his distraction, I'd already operated efficiently in the bedroom, packing all his clothes from the closet into two large suitcases.

He seemed unable to process it. "Lester, are you really this eager to throw me out?"

I gave him a baffled look and said irritably, "Just saving you from wasting time pursuing your soulmate."

"All your clothes are here. Tomorrow I'll have movers send the books from your study. Give me an address—I'll send them cash on delivery. Don't forget to sign for them."

Jones seemed to have an epiphany. "I understand now. Ever since you learned I had terminal cancer, you've been desperate to dump me, haven't you?"

With a trace of condescending pity and disdain, he said as if deeply wronged: "This is why I've felt so suffocated being with you all these years. Our union was a mistake. You're vulgar, mercenary, only care about profit. All you ever talk about with me is money and trivialities. Being with you is a complete waste of life!"

As he spoke, his expression became dreamy again. "But life shouldn't be like this. Douglas says life should be like appreciating a beautiful snowfall, should be romance and beauty, spring breezes and clear skies..."

My mouth twitched. I really couldn't help interrupting him. "Are you done? This vulgar person can't stand listening to you adulterers and your flowery words. Take your things and get out. Now."

Jones's gold-rimmed glasses reflected a cold light. The look he gave me was full of pity and contempt, as if I—the woman who'd shared his bed for years—was some filthy thing invading his sacred spiritual realm. His lips moved, about to retort, when a phone ring interrupted him.

His mocking gaze instantly softened. After he answered, I vaguely heard a woman's voice.

Probably his "Douglas."

The woman said something on the phone—probably acting cute—and listening to her, Jones's face showed an indulgent tenderness I'd never seen before. Even his voice became gentle.

He'd never spoken to me in that tone.

I thought all married couples were like this—calm, stable, peaceful. Only now did I realize my marriage had been broken for a long time.

Jones left.

I looked at the empty room. Sunlight streamed in. The flowers on the balcony swayed gently in the breeze. Birds occasionally flew past the window. Everything was as usual.

Nothing changed because of one person's departure.

I thought I'd cry hysterically, have a breakdown. But I didn't.

Enlightenment came so quickly. In just a few hours, my emotions went from wild joy to shock, from anger to calm, and now to a strange lightness.

A man like that wasn't worth keeping. Now not only was I divorced, he'd voluntarily left with nothing. What was the difference between this and the saying "promotion, fortune, and husband's death"?

Oh, I almost forgot.

I touched the pocket containing Jones's misdiagnosis notice—my husband wouldn't die, he'd just smoothly roll out of my life in another way.