Chapter 5: The Anniversary Fight

My mind drifted back to three years ago—

When we first got married, things weren’t so tense. Sometimes we’d go back to the old house together, or have meals on Thanksgiving or Christmas. Those moments felt almost normal, like we could have been any other newlyweds starting out.

On our wedding night, as things got heated, we kissed, hugged, and got into bed. The pressure of family expectations hung over us, but I tried to set it aside and focus on him.

Because it was my first time, I was terrified and in pain, and I couldn’t stop crying. The tears came fast, and my voice broke with sobs. The room felt too big, too quiet.

After a few attempts, Derek seemed to lose interest and got up halfway through. He retreated into the bathroom and stayed there a long time.

After that, he never touched me again. We settled into an awkward truce, sharing a bed but not a life.

I turned away, started getting dressed, and planned to sleep at the pet shop. The thought of curling up on the cot in the back room, surrounded by the smell of cedar chips and dog shampoo, felt more comforting than my own bed.

Now I was finally clear-headed—love after marriage was impossible. I couldn’t keep degrading myself, trying to keep Derek with my body. I deserved more than this slow, quiet misery.

"Why?" Derek blocked the wardrobe with one hand, his gaze dark. He looked almost hurt, but I couldn't let myself care.

He let out a bitter laugh: "You’ve always been so obedient."

"And now, just because of a rug?" The sarcasm in his voice stung.

I steadied myself: "Because of Aubrey." The name tasted sour on my tongue.

I looked up and met his eyes: "Since you and she are a better match, you should have told me sooner."

"I would have let you be together." My voice was steady, even as my heart pounded.

Why waste my youth? I just don’t understand. The words echoed in my mind, bitter and unspoken.

For the first time, I mustered the courage to confront Derek: "Today is our wedding anniversary—did you even remember?"

"While I was busy cooking in the kitchen, you were sleeping with Aubrey in the office. Do you really think I’m a fool?"

Derek’s expression changed, but he didn’t lose composure. He pressed his lips together and tried to explain.

"I’m thirty-one this year. Before I married you, didn’t I have to take care of my own needs?"

"Aubrey has been with me since she was twenty—just my bed partner, nothing more." The words sounded clinical, almost rehearsed, as if he’d justified them to himself a thousand times.

When Derek said ‘bed partner,’ it was as if he were introducing someone as ‘just a friend’—so matter-of-fact. The cold detachment made me want to scream.

I staggered, letting out a bitter laugh: "So you’ve been sleeping together for eight years."

I counted the days in my head. "Even at our wedding, while she was running around helping us, you were fooling around behind my back?"

I stared wide-eyed at Derek, unable to hold back my pain and sorrow. The betrayal felt fresh, raw.

Derek wasn’t good at lowering himself to explain. He stood there, stunned for a long time, then simply tried to hug me. I recoiled.

"Many people in our circle have a dozen women around them."

"I don’t. I only have Aubrey as a bed partner—just to satisfy physical needs."

I laughed, sharp and ugly. “That’s what you call it? A transaction?”

“There’s no love or emotion, just a transaction, you understand? She gives me her body, I give her money and opportunities. And you…"

[Slap]

A moment of stunned silence hung between us. Somewhere in the house, a clock ticked. A car drove by outside, the sound oddly loud in the stillness. Then I stormed out, shaking with anger. My hand stung, but the look in his eyes hurt more.

I couldn’t accept how lightly he spoke about sex. My hands trembled. I didn’t even bother packing my clothes, just grabbed my phone and shoved past him out the door. The cold night air bit at my bare arms as I hurried down the driveway, heart pounding.

"Derek, you really disgust me."