She Cured Him, I Cured Myself

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance.

But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation.

Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her.

The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.]

What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me.

With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!]

The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

...

"You're insane!" Isiah Coleman huffed. "Zoe was kind enough to treat me, and it's all for your sexual happiness. How could you be sarcastic on social media? You're impossible!"

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. "I waited for you in the mountains for seven hours, and you never showed up."

He paused, growing impatient. "I'm fine now. Why did you even go there? Stay put. I'm coming to pick you up."

His sudden concern only made me squeeze my eyes shut tighter. "No need."

I hung up and trudged resolutely down the mountain. But then a downpour started, and an urgent honk sounded behind me.

Isiah stuck his head out of the car, urging me, "Floria, get in!"

Unwilling to get soaked, I opened the car door, ready to climb in when Zoe Mitchell called him. "Isiah, I feel awful after treating you earlier. Can you take me to the hospital?"

He hung up, locked the door with a frown, and said flatly, "Shelter under that tree. Zoe's waiting for me."

"But I'm already getting in," I protested.

He just floored the accelerator and sped off, not even glancing back.

I watched the car vanish into the distance, a chill wind wrapping around me like icy fingers. I shivered uncontrollably.

It was always like this. Whenever Zoe was in trouble, he would drop everything to be by her side.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled up the divorce agreement I'd prepared long ago and sent it to him.

After hiking what felt like miles down the rain-slicked path, I flagged down a ride-share and finally made it home.

As I reached the front door, my phone buzzed with a notification from our friends' group chat. Someone had shared a screenshot of Zoe's post.

[Zoe's caption is brutal! What kind of disease does Isiah have that needs her touch?]

[What else? His erectile dysfunction around Floria.]

I was shocked by how much they knew about the private matter. Before I could dwell on it, the next message came, making my skin crawl.

[Everyone knows Zoe is Isiah's first love. Floria gets neither his body nor his heart.]

[No wonder Isiah faked the erectile dysfunction to stay faithful to Zoe. Only a fool like Floria would buy it.]

I clenched my jaw. I never imagined he'd go this far for her.

"I don't care about his heart or body! We're divorcing," I spoke into the phone, ready to send it.

Just then, another message pinged: [Holy crap! Delete that! How is Floria in the group?]

The next instant, I was booted out.

I let out a bitter laugh, deciding not to pursue it. With only three days left in the cooling-off period, the only thing I cared about was the divorce certificate.

But as I fumbled for my keys at the door, a crack in the frame revealed Isiah slumped on the sofa, clutching a sexy photo of Zoe.

He murmured to himself, lost in the moment, "Zoe... Zoe... I love you so much."

The sight drew a hollow chuckle from me. In the old days, I'd have stormed in demanding answers. Now, I just watched him coldly.

As his breathing quickened, my heart turned to ice, inch by inch.

I shoved the door open, startling him. He stuffed the photo into his pocket with fumbling hands.

I squinted at him. "So, you ditched me halfway down the mountain to come home and get off? What, no more dysfunction?"

He coughed awkwardly, masking his guilt. "I was just starting to get hard when you interrupted. Now it's gone again."

I looked at him with disdain. "Oh really? I thought you were faking it to avoid me."

Panic flickered in his eyes for a split second. Then, as if to prove his point, he grabbed my hand and pulled it toward his crotch.

"How could you say that?" he said. "Don't believe me? Here, feel it for yourself."

I flinched, my stomach churning at the thought of Zoe touching him. I pulled my hand free and stepped back. "I don't care whether it's working or not. We're getting a divorce."