Too Cold to Love: Letting My Wife and Child Go

I headed to the local nursery and bought a cherry tree in full bloom.

The owner gave me his word that it would bear fruit. He said if it wasn't loaded with cherries in three months, I could come back and dig up anything in his nursery.

I took the tree home and planted it in the garden bed that had sat empty for nearly nine years.

My days settled into a steady rhythm: working at the boxing gym, picking up groceries on the way home, cooking, having dinner, and tending to the yard.

Time, surprisingly, flew by.

Three months later, the cherry tree was full of ruby-red fruit.

"You see, Cheryl? You don't have to wait three years to eat cherries. Maybe forgetting you won't take a lifetime either."

I was lost in thought when a cheerful female voice drifted down from above.

"Hey, handsome neighbor! Your cherry tree is growing into my yard!"

I looked up and realized someone new had moved in next door.

A young woman was leaning over the second-floor balcony, a bright smile on her face.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized right away. "I'll come over and trim it in a bit."

She waved her hands. "No, that's not what I meant. I was just wondering, since that branch is in my yard now, am I allowed to eat the cherries?"

I picked a basket of cherries for her, and that was how we got to know each other.

Her name was Beatrix Harper. She was a surgeon.

A few days later, she offered to treat me to dinner.

I figured it wouldn't hurt to say yes. If I really died alone at home someday, at least someone might notice before the body rotted and stank up the whole block. And since she was a doctor, she had probably seen enough bodies not to be squeamish.

Beatrix and I slipped into an easy friendship.

She often came over in the evenings to mooch dinner and help out in the kitchen, claiming she was learning how to cook from me.

One evening, I overheard her teasing her mom on the phone. "I'm learning. I'm learning how to cook with my neighbor. I'll take care of myself. Don't worry, Mom."

She must have a happy family. It was nice to see.

I just hoped that when my time finally came, it wouldn't be too gruesome. I would hate to leave a young woman that bright with any lasting trauma.

Beatrix asked if I was single. I told her I had been married for six years, divorced three months ago, and that my ex-wife had taken our son with her.

She looked stunned, staring at me hesitantly before finally saying, "Kevin, are you pulling my leg? I asked a few of the neighbors about you. They all said you've always been single."

That was when I realized that after the mission was completed, the System might have erased all traces of Cheryl and Jasper ever existing.

I brought Beatrix home and pulled out the family albums to prove that Cheryl and Jasper had truly existed. Only then did I discover that every photo containing the two of them had vanished. There wasn't a single trace left in the house that they had ever been there.

I sat on the sofa in a daze, unable to speak for a long while.

Beatrix watched me with concern. "Kevin, fantasizing about being loved is a symptom of deep-seated depression."

She hesitated, pity in her voice. "I know this might be hard to accept, but your mental state isn't stable right now. You need professional help."

I stopped trying to convince her about Cheryl and Jasper. I had no intention of seeking psychological help either.

I simply told her I was fine, and that if things ever got truly bad, I would consider treatment.

Beatrix didn't press the issue. Still, she kept stopping by for dinner every few days, and occasionally we would head out for a game of badminton.

Just like that, another three months passed.

Then one day, when Beatrix and I returned home together, I saw Cheryl waiting by the gate, holding Jasper's hand.

The moment Jasper saw me, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around my legs. "Daddy! I missed you so much! They bullied me!"

Cheryl stayed where she was, her eyes fixed intently on Beatrix. "Kevin! Who is she? What is going on between you two?"

I never imagined she and Jasper would actually come back.

What was even more jarring was her audacity. She was acting as if they had never left. She looked exactly like a wife returning home after picking up her son from daycare, only to find her husband cheating on the front lawn.

With a blank expression, I peeled Jasper off me. It was a gesture I knew well. He had brushed my hand away or dodged my hugs countless times before.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice cold and distant. "I don't know you. If you're trying to claim we're related, you've got the wrong person."

Cheryl grew even angrier, her pretty face flushing a furious red. "Kevin! What is that supposed to mean? Are you seriously going to stand there and deny your own wife and son?"

I smiled faintly. "Miss, I've always lived here. All the neighbors know I've always been single. How could I possibly have a wife and son?"