Let Him Have His Moon

I opened her profile. No work posted, but the banner caught my eye. A sunset.

It was from the day Gavin first flew abroad for work. I'd been curled up at home sketching designs when I looked up and saw the sky burning red, and I'd taken a photo and sent it to him.

I'd posted it to my social feed too. Plenty of likes, plenty of views.

Over video call, I'd joked that maybe he should make an account of his own, to record our life together as a working couple.

He'd looked at me, cold.

"An artist stays focused on himself and his work. He doesn't let fast-paced clips push him around."

And now? Now he'd made one.

Something wet and heavy lodged in my throat, and the tears blurred everything.

I tipped my head back and forced them down.

I found the nearest OB-GYN clinic and booked an appointment.

I rested three days, then started packing.

Some of the clothes in the closet I shipped back to my hometown; the rest I packed to take abroad.

The handful of gifts Gavin had given me over the years, I listed on a resale app.

Drafts, books, all boxed and sealed.

Last, I put the house up on a rental app and set a price.

I poured a glass of water and sat down on the couch. Gavin came home, saw the boxes in the living room, and his brow drew tight.

"What are you packing for? You want to go back home again?"

I cupped the glass in both hands.

"Too many clothes. I'm sending some back."

"I told you to stop buying cheap junk. You wear it a few times, then it just sits there. Waste."

As he spoke, his eyes went to the corner.

The dirty clothes and boots he'd dumped on the floor when he came back last week.

He picked up a jacket, brought it to his nose, and his face cooled.

"Valerie, it's been how many days? Why haven't you washed this yet?"

I looked down, took a sip of water, and turned on the TV.

"Not a good time for me."

He blinked, then his voice climbed.

"Since when did you get so precious?"

"You can't even do laundry now?"

I set the glass down and looked at him.

"Right now."

His lips moved, and in the end he snatched up the pile, irritated, and stalked off to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he hung the dripping clothes on the balcony, crooked and careless.

That was when the door opened.

"Gavin, I'm here!"

Naomi walked in beaming, two bags of snacks in her hands.

When she saw me on the couch, the smile froze on her face.

"Val... you're home too..."

"How do you know the code to my house?"

I stared at her as I asked.

Gavin heard the noise and came over quickly, taking the snacks from her.

"I told her. The floor in her rental flooded. It won't dry out until tomorrow."

"She's staying in the guest room tonight. I'll set it up."

"This is my house. What gives you the right to let her stay?"

"Valerie, what are you saying?"

His brows knotted.

"So now you're drawing lines between yours and mine?"

"It's just a fact."

"Fine. I'll pay you rent. Happy?"

He pulled out his phone as he said it.

A second later, my phone buzzed. A transfer. Two thousand.

I didn't hesitate. I accepted it, stood, and went into my room.

"Fine."

In the middle of the night, my lower belly cramped in waves.

I got up to take medicine and saw the guest room door standing open.

Gavin and Naomi were eating snacks, watching a variety show on a tablet, laughing now and then.

Their arms pressed close together.

By the time I finished the medicine and turned back to my room, the door had closed.

At eight in the morning, the airline woke me with a call about rescheduling my flight.

I got up in a fog and saw a bowl of clear noodle soup on the table. Naomi was gone.

Gavin came out of the kitchen, looked at me, and his tone softened.

"You look terrible."

"Eat. I just made it. Then go back and sleep a while."

I sat down and looked at the scallions floating on top.

"I can't eat this."

Impatience crossed his face.

"Valerie..."

"I'm allergic to scallions."

Gavin went still, his face going awkward.

"No time to make something else. I'll order you delivery."

He grabbed the keys and started for the door.

"Gavin."

I called him back.

"Do you remember what day it is today?"

He didn't turn around.

"We'll talk this afternoon. The guy installing Naomi's floor is almost there, and she can't handle it on her own, so I have to go supervise."

"I'm off for the next two weeks. I'll have plenty of time for you. Wait till I'm back."

Watching the door close, I murmured to myself.

"Today is our three-thousandth day together."

We'd promised each other that every time we hit another thousand days, we'd spend the whole day together.

Too bad. There was no chance now.

I didn't want to wait anymore.

I called a courier to pick up the packages. Then I laid the signed divorce agreement and the hospital report on the dining table.

On the way to the airport, I cleared my phone of everything from these eight years, everything about him.

Last, I sent him one photo.

【Congratulations on finding your Moon. Eight years. They're yours.】