Bound to You, Broken by You

On her face, someone who rarely showed emotion, was a bright, radiant smile. Even the smile on Merrick’s face seemed blindingly bright.

And Cyrus, standing between them, looked every bit the gentle, elegant father figure that family photos were supposed to have.

I only gave it a brief glance. Then I noticed a message from my mother.

She wrote:

[I’ve prepared your passport. Once the divorce is registered tomorrow, come with me. You can come back later to pick up the certificate.]

I didn’t refuse, just replied quietly, [Okay.]

In the past, I always used to tell myself that I wanted to be a good father who thought about his child, to let him live a happy life, to let him know he was loved, so I never told Merrick the truth.

For her job, Selene took a labor-inducing shot before her due date. It made the baby come early and he was born with high jaundice.

He had to stay in the newborn emergency room for a whole month.

After giving birth, Selene went straight back to work. So I was the one staying in the hospital taking care of him.

When I got a high fever and couldn’t take care of the baby, I tried calling her, but she didn’t answer.

I thought she was just busy with work, so I forced myself to bear all the pain alone.

Until the day I found out she was cheating, only then did I realize, she was in another man’s bed enjoying comfort when I was in the hospital day and night caring for our baby.

When the baby had a fever in the middle of the night and I suddenly got appendicitis and was in a panic, she kept sleeping with another man, using “business trips” as her excuse.

As for my pain, she acted like she couldn’t see it.

Whenever she felt a little guilty, she would keep buying me gifts to make up for it. When she saw me smile sincerely at those gifts, she secretly thought to herself, “Warren is so easy to please.”

She told me those words herself. She treated my touched reaction to her gifts like a joke to laugh about.

She completely forgot that in our hardest years, when we lived in a dark, cramped basement, she used to cry in pain seeing me— tired and worn out, struggling to make a living for us— while watching other women’s boyfriends looking fresh and full of life.

Back then, she used to hold my hand and say, “Warren, how lucky I am to have met you in this life. If I ever lose you, how will I go on living?”

She said she wanted to give me the best life. Every time she got her paycheck, she would spend half of it buying me clothes, shoes and all the food I loved to eat.

Then she would smile and tell me, “Warren, you deserve better. Just wait a little longer for me. I’ll make sure you have everything others have too.”

So I waited and waited. Day after day, I dreamed about the beautiful future the three of us would share as a family.

But reality kept stabbing at my heart that was already full of scars and cracks.

I packed my luggage, tore up every photo of me that existed in the house and called a cleaner to erase every trace of my life there. I was ready to leave right after the divorce registration tomorrow.

That night, neither Selene nor Merrick came home. I didn’t call or text to ask them back.

The next morning, I arrived at the courthouse as planned. Selene came about half an hour late.

When she got out of the car and saw me, wearing the same black suit I wore at our wedding, her eyes flickered with a hint of admiration, but it vanished quickly.

A faint, mocking smile curved her lips as she said, “Why are you wearing your wedding suit here? Don’t tell me you regret agreeing to the divorce?”

I looked at her and shook my head. Then I said calmly, “Wearing something new means celebration. Today’s a happy day, isn’t it?”

The smile on Selene’s lips quickly faded. When she saw the calm in my eyes, steady as still water, a strange flicker of panic crossed her heart.

She asked again, “Are you really sure about this? No regrets at all? Warren, I’m not someone who looks back. Once we register the divorce today, we’ll truly be strangers from now on.”

I took out my phone and deleted all her contact information right in front of her. Then I turned toward the courthouse. “Come on, it’s our turn.”

After signing the divorce papers and walking out, I didn’t look back and headed straight for the car where my mother was waiting by the road.

Selene stood there, watching my figure fade into the distance.

For the first time, she felt an emptiness deep in her chest as if something had quietly been taken away.

She reached out, trying to grab hold of me, but her hand only caught the passing wind.