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The next day, Connor appeared at City Hall exactly on time. He was dressed formally, his wedding ring already removed, leaving only a faint pale imprint on his fing-
- er. His expression was calm, showing neither joy nor sorrow. “Let’s be quick. I have an online meeting at ten.”
Gazing at his strong, unyielding face, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu. The day we got our marriage license, he’d said almost the exact same thing. And then, he’d
gone through the entire process like an emotionless robot, following instructions. Even the clerk couldn’t help but ask him, “Sir, if today isn’t convenient, you can
reschedule.” His face had darkened. “I’m here voluntarily.”
Today, too, he was here voluntarily. Only this time, we were getting a divorce. I had expected the divorce to be a long, drawn–out battle, but it went surprisingly smoo-
thly. The moment I held the divorce certificate, I slowly exhaled, a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Connor stared at the divorce certificate for a long time. Not until another couple nudged him to move along did he suddenly snap out of it, turning and quickly leavi-
- ng.
As I walked out of City Hall, Connor was on the phone by the entrance. “Yes, it’s done. If you’re tired, sleep in. I’ll pick you up for lunch after my meeting…” As I passed
him, Connor suddenly called out to me. I turned. “Yes?”
He pursed his lips. “When you have a moment clear out your things. It’s not appropriate to leave them.”
“Have the housekeeper pack them up. Throw them out.” With that, I turned and got into the car waiting by the curb. The car started, slowly pulling away. I saw Conn- or still standing by the roadside, looking in my direction, lost in thought.
That very night, news of our divorce reached our parents. My parents called me home immediately, late into the night. They demanded to know why! was being so reckless. “Tell me, why are you doing this? A man makes a mistake, it’s not like you can’t make it work. If you get divorced, won’t you just make it easier for another woman?” My mother looked at me, exasperated. “Call Connor right now, apologize, and then find a time to get remarried. What, are you divorcing just for fun?!”
“No remarriage,” I said. “It will never happen between him and me again.”
My mother’s voice suddenly rose, piercingly sharp. “You say no remarriage and that’s it? You can be so cavalier, but have you thought about our family business?” She continued, her voice rising in pitch. “Besides, look at your friends in our circle. Aren’t they all living separate lives? Who divorces over something like this?” She
Chapter 2
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droned on and on, her words circling back to “remarriage” time and again. But no matter what she said, I remained unmoved.
In our circle, most marriages were broken. The intertwined interests were too complex; divorce felt like flaying one’s own skin. So most couples maintained a façade, living separate lives in private. I once thought I would live that way forever, but then I realized people are different. Once the arrow is shot, there’s no turning back.
And I would never turn back.
“Mom, let me talk to her.” My brother had appeared behind me, I hadn’t even noticed. Before my mother could object, he pulled me out the door, opened the car door, and gently pushed me inside. “Go home. Don’t answer her calls.”
I was stunned. “Brother…”
He gave me a pointed look. “Alright, don’t give me that sad face. Don’t think I don’t know you’re always smiling around that guy, Reed.”
He leaned against the car door, lighting a cigarette. “Bring Reed out for dinnér sometime soon. He’ll have to get past me first.”
If it were before, I would have certainly argued with him. But listening to him now, my eyes welled up. Eight years ago, my brother had also followed our family’s arrangements and married my sister–in–law. He and she lived respectfully, raising a nephew. My brother never philandered and was always attentive to her. Everyone said they were a model couple, but only I knew that neither my brother nor my sister–in–law were truly happy. I had asked my brother, why live unhappily? He had said, “You always have to sacrifice something.” I didn’t know who he sacrificed, but I knew my sister–in–law had only ever loved him.
9
