He Got Every Question Wrong on Our 10th Anniversary

The live stream lights came up.

The host smiled at the camera.:

“There were a lot of guesses online last night, so today we've invited the three people involved to tell everyone the real story.”

Bertha Jenner sat beside Ned Weiss, her eyes faintly red.

“I really didn't want to bring this up.”

“But I don't want everyone to misunderstand Ned. The reason he treats me differently is only because I saved him back then.”

The comments scrolled by in a flood.

The host turned to me.:

“Mrs. Weiss, you must know all about what happened back then too, don't you?”

A crew member held a cue card up in front of my eyes.

It read::

【Thank Miss Jenner for saving my husband, and express understanding for his years of looking after her.】

I looked at that line, and suddenly I smiled.

Ned's expression shifted slightly.

I took the microphone and didn't read off the card.

“Of course I know.”

The camera pushed in close.

I raised my arm and slowly rolled up my sleeve, baring the vicious burn scar across my forearm.

“So I'd like to ask Miss Jenner something too.”

“The day you charged into the fire, which hand got burned?”

The live stream went silent for a beat.

Bertha's face went white, and she instinctively pulled both hands back into her sleeves.

Ned reacted first.

He seized my wrist and yanked the rolled-up sleeve back down.

“Kathleen, we're live. Stop making a scene.”

I shook his hand off and rolled the sleeve back up.

“Aren't we here to tell the real story?”

“This is what that day left behind.”

The camera visibly wobbled, and backstage fell into chaos at once.

The assistant director was signaling frantically, and the smile froze on the host's face.

All at once Bertha clutched her chest, her breathing turning ragged.

“I'm sorry……I really don't want to talk about that accident……I'm so scared……”

Ned let go of me at once and turned to steady her.

“Bertha!”

A crew member brought water, the makeup artist patted her back, and everyone crowded around her.

Soon the hushed murmurs were burrowing into my ears from every direction.

“Mrs. Weiss is so cruel, cornering her like that on a live stream.”

“Miss Jenner already has trauma from the fire. Isn't she provoking her on purpose, doing that?”

“Even if there's some misunderstanding, couldn't they sort it out in private? She just had to make everyone uncomfortable.”

I stood where I was, watching them shelter Bertha so carefully.

The stream was finally cut, the reason given as equipment failure.

Ned dragged me into the bedroom.

He looked at me, his face dark.

“Satisfied now?”

I set the microphone down on the table.

“No.”

I'd angered him, and his voice went cold.:

“Kathleen, what exactly are you trying to do? I don't get it anymore. Was it so hard to just play along for one stream?”

I lifted my eyes to him.

“Yes. It was.”

Ned was quiet for a moment, then took a jewelry box from his pocket and set it down in front of me.

“Your tenth-anniversary gift. I'm making it up to you.”

“Is this enough? Can you stop making trouble now?”

I lowered my eyes and flipped the lid open.

Inside lay a platinum bracelet.

The little diamonds glittered, but the clasp was thin as a blade, and it would press right against my right wrist.

Where there was a burn scar.

I put it back.

He frowned at my wrist, as if he'd finally remembered something.

Out in the living room, Bertha still sat on the couch, shedding tears.

The assistant director urged him in a low voice.:

“Mr. Weiss, everything's ready out here.”

Ned didn't look at me again. He turned to go comfort her.

“Don't cry. It'll be over soon.”

I closed the lid of the box and followed Ned out.

"Ned."

The living room went quiet.

Every pair of eyes settled on the two of us.

"Let's get divorced."

His face darkened in an instant.

"What did you say?"

I didn't answer.

I turned, walked to the entryway, changed my shoes, and opened the door.

Behind me came a crew member's flustered voice:

"Mr. Weiss, aren't you going after her?"

Just before the door shut, I heard his voice turn cold.

"Leave her be."

The elevator doors slid closed.

I looked down at my bare right wrist, and suddenly remembered how, years ago, he had once pressed a very light kiss there.