Dear Husband, We were never Married!

“Please… arrange it. I want it now. And I’m coming home, too.”

On the other end of the line, my mother went quiet. I could hear the faint clink of her bracelet, the rustle of her silk robe — it all felt so far away, like another world.

“What do you mean, Nadine? You chased Scott Jones for ten years,” she hissed, disbelief cracking through her calm tone. “You begged me to stop that arrangement back then because you said you loved him. And now what? You want me to fix this marriage you rejected so stubbornly?”

“I was mistaken,” I said, my throat raw. I sank onto the edge of my bed, knees shaking. “I want to leave, Mom. Please. Have that man you wanted me to marry come pick me up. One week. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“That’s so fast, darling.” Her voice softened, like I was fifteen again, crying into her lap after Scott ignored me at prom. “What happened? Did you two fight? What about the divorce? Did he sign the papers?”

I laughed, a dry, empty sound. “No need for that. I was never married.”

Before she could say anything else, I hung up. I didn’t want to hear her pity or her scolding. I just wanted it to be done.

When I turned around, my blood froze in my veins. Scott stood at the door, his arms crossed, eyes dark and narrowed.

His shadow fell across the carpet like a stormcloud. “What the hell was that, Jasmine?”

My stomach twisted. Jasmine. He couldn’t even get my name right sometimes. “Who were you talking to? What do you mean you were never married? Huh?” He took a step forward, voice rising. “What’s this now? Are you being dramatic again? Is this because I didn’t agree to that stupid anniversary trip you kept begging about?”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. He stalked closer, his tone softening just enough to make my skin crawl. “Didn’t I say we can’t go right now? Your best friend is in a coma. Her brother is still paralyzed. You have to take care of them, we have to. Once Jasmine wakes up, we’ll go. I promise, baby. We’ll go see the aurora borealis together. Wouldn’t you love that?”

His words slithered around me like a snake I’d let coil around my neck for years. I saw it all now — how Jasmine was always there between us. Always. Even before the coma. Even before the rooftop. In high school, I thought she was helping me get closer to him. Writing my letters. Handing him my gifts. But she was the one he’d call at night. The one he’d smile at when he thought I wasn’t looking. My best friend — my betrayal wrapped in a ribbon.

I must’ve been staring too long because Scott’s voice snapped like a whip. “What? Who are you talking to in that head of yours? Are you insulting me now? Say something!”

My eyes burned as tears finally spilled over. I didn’t even try to wipe them away. He paused, his anger shifting into that pathetic, boyish panic he always used to reel me back in. “Oh God, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I hate seeing you cry. You know that, right? You’re hurting me when you cry like this…”

He pulled me into his arms, his hand sliding behind my neck like it always did when he kissed me. His lips brushed mine but I felt nothing. Nothing but disgust. Once, I would’ve melted. Once, I would’ve forgiven everything with just this. But now?

Now I knew what that kiss really cost me.

I pulled back, my voice flat. “I have a stomachache.”

He frowned, brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “A stomachache? That’s all? Why didn’t you say so? I’ll call the driver. We’ll get you to the hospital right now.”

He pressed his phone to his ear, barking orders like he always did. I stood there like a ghost, watching him fuss, trying to remember when I ever felt safe in his care.

We drove in silence for a while. He held my hand, tracing circles on my skin that made my stomach twist. For a second, I almost believed it — this little lie that he cared. But then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and just like that, I vanished from his mind.

“What? Jasmine’s awake?” His eyes lit up in a way I’d never seen before — not for me. “Turn the car around. We need to go back. I have to be there. She’ll want to see me.”

I stared at him. “What about me? I’m sick, Scott.”

He looked at me like I was an insect crawling across his precious floor. “It’s just a stomachache, Nadine. Don’t be dramatic. Driver, pull over.”

The car slowed to the side of the road. Scott opened the door and practically shoved me out. The rain started in slow, icy drops that slid down my neck.

“Take this,” he said, tossing his black credit card at my feet like a bone for a starving dog. “Get a taxi to the hospital. You’ll be fine.”

“Scott—”

“Stay here,” he snapped at me, and then he was gone. The door slammed. The car sped away into the night — back to Jasmine. Back to the woman he always loved.

I stood there on the side of the road, my hair plastered to my face, my hands clutched to my chest. The rain soaked through my coat in seconds. I could feel the cold all the way to my bones.

I closed my eyes and whispered to the darkness, “Just one more week. One more week… and I’ll be free.”