Ryan Iacono Matt

My husband had an accident while on his way to celebrate his infatuation’s divorce. He was relatively unharmed, just a head injury. When he regained consciousness, it turned out he’d forgotten me, though he remembered everyone else. His infatuation was there, crying softly by his side as he comforted her tenderly. Meanwhile, I skimmed the fat from the chicken stew I'd brought him, hoping it wouldn't be too greasy when he tasted it. Two days later, after all the visitors had left, I saw him sitting there, rubbing his temples. I spoke gently, "The doctor said you'll experience dizziness and nausea for a few days. Maybe you should lie down and rest." Dean opened his eyes and looked at me, silent for a long moment. Just when I thought he wouldn't speak, he suddenly asked, "Did I marry you because I loved you? Why am I the only one who’s forgotten you?" I was taken aback, not expecting him to ask this. "No, we were college classmates. After graduation, your family was pushing for marriage. I happened to like you, so we got married." Now it was his turn to be surprised. "You liked me?" I walked over to him and straightened the collar of his loose pajamas. "Yeah, I really did back then. You were handsome, smart, and talented. Who wouldn’t?" I saw the confusion in his eyes and couldn’t help but smile slightly. "Go rest now, or you'll feel worse later." Watching him retreat to the bedroom, I made a firm resolution in my heart. This man, I’m done with him. No matter how much I once liked him, I don't want him anymore. I quietly shut the master bedroom door before making my way to the study. Dean’s bookshelf was always meticulously organized, every book in its place. Whenever he wanted to read something specific, he’d pull it out ahead of time and leave it in the center of the rightmost cabinet. My fingers brushed over the spines until I landed on a thick journal. I opened it, flipping through the pages with a bittersweet ache in my chest. **October 16, 2014** Wow. The senior playing the violin at the freshman welcome party was *so* handsome. His name is Dean. I think I might have a little crush on him. The pages were filled with my raw, unfiltered thoughts about him—every flutter of my heart, every stolen glance. And tucked between the pages was an ultrasound report. **January 19, 2023** Dean and I are going to have a baby. I can’t wait to tell him. He’s always wanted to be a father, and I know he’ll be over the moon. **January 20, 2023** Dean didn’t come home last night. I wanted to text him about the pregnancy, but it felt like something I should say in person. He’ll be so happy… right? **January 21, 2023** Dean said he was on a “business trip” and forgot to tell me. Fine. I’ll tell him when he gets back. **January 22, 2023** I saw Marina’s Instagram post. Not sure if it’s visible only to me, but Dean was with her. They went on a getaway together. So, it wasn’t a business trip after all. **January 23, 2023** Marina called me. She wants me to divorce Dean and “give him back” to her. But wasn’t *she* the one who left him to go abroad? How do I “give him back” when I didn’t take him away? Her call upset me so much I ended up with stomach pains and had to go to the hospital. The doctor told me to stay calm, but how am I supposed to do that? **February 24, 2023** Marina says she’s divorced now, and Dean is going to celebrate with her. My stomach hurts again, and I feel nauseous. I drank some herbal tea to protect the baby, but it tasted awful. **February 26, 2023** Dean told me the office had a gathering, so he wouldn’t be home tonight. But I know he’s with Marina. Oh, baby, I’m sorry. You might not have a dad because he can’t let go of his past. **February 27, 2023** Dean got into a car accident last night. He woke up today and remembers everyone… except me. It’s over. I placed the journal back in the center of the rightmost bookshelf, making sure it was positioned lower so he’d notice it within a couple of months. The third drawer of the desk was where I kept my personal belongings. I tucked the medical records inside and locked it up. It was time to end all this toxicity. I needed to cut ties with everything and everyone that brought me pain—Marina, Dean, even Dean’s pretentious parents. A jerk doesn’t change, and I’m not holding my breath for him to have a sudden epiphany. But once I’m gone, I won’t let them live their lives so comfortably either. March 1, 2023 I set the breakfast I had prepared on the dining table just as Dean emerged from the bedroom. I smiled at him, but he avoided eye contact and sat down. I tried not to let it bother me; ever since Marina mentioned wanting a divorce, this had been his usual demeanor with me. This is why I couldn't buy Dean's claims of amnesia. After two days of quietly observing him, I concluded he was faking it. He was using the silent treatment along with his supposed memory loss as a tactic to make me frustrated enough to initiate the divorce. The cherry on top was him asking yesterday if he married me because he loved me. Breakfast passed in silence. I was patiently peeling an apple when Dean's phone rang. His face lit up with a smile as he glanced at the caller ID. "Marina, yeah, I'm awake. Still a little dizzy, but I'll be okay. Make sure to wear something warm. Yep, I'm home, feel free to come by anytime." My hand paused mid-peel. Should I make myself scarce so they could have more room to parade their affection? If I had to witness their lovey-dovey behavior once more, I feared I might truly get sick. After finishing breakfast, I tidied up and told Dean I was heading out. "Alright, Marina said she's coming over to take care of me, so you don't need to worry," he replied. I nodded with a smile, "That's great; I won't worry then. I'll be back tonight, and we can talk after dinner." Dean seemed to be searching my eyes for a reaction, maybe hoping to see dismay or defeat. But he'd be let down, as my gaze remained steady. "Okay," he said. I headed straight to my childhood friend's law firm. "So, you're getting a divorce?" Arianna asked, incredulous. "You two have always been the picture-perfect couple. How did it come to this?" I took a sip of coffee. "He's been cheating. His ex got divorced, and now he wants to be with her." "Do his parents know?" I rolled my eyes. "His social-climbing parents have been comparing me to Marina for years. Marina's family is wealthy; she made money in Europe, and she's supposedly so kind-hearted. They've always thought she was better than me. They'll probably be thrilled this time." Arianna grabbed the coffee from my hand. "Aren't you pregnant? Is coffee even okay?" I tilted my head. "Who said I'm keeping it? Ever since they started going on romantic getaways, I decided not to have this child. Dean's tainted, and I don't want anything binding me to him, not even a child, even if it carries his blood." I took the coffee back and had another sip. "Just no time right now. Help me draft a divorce agreement, as soon as possible. I want to secure the best deal while I can, ideally getting him to walk away with nothing." "If you're sure about this, I won't try to talk you out of it. A jerk like him isn't worth the trouble. I'll get started now, come with me." I spent the entire day at the law firm, working with Arianna and two other lawyers to finalize the divorce agreement. At nine in the evening, I returned home with the divorce papers in hand. As soon as I opened the door, I was greeted by a table full of leftovers. Dean and Marina both looked up. "Why didn't you call if you weren't coming back for dinner?" Dean asked. Of course, I had been too busy and forgot. I checked my phone. "You didn't call me to ask either." Marina smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Ah, married life, there's nothing that can't be talked out. You two chat, I'll get going. Dean, the pulled pork you made was delicious. See you!" "You can cook?" I walked over to the table and noted the mess—four dishes and a soup, all looking quite decent. Dean nodded. "I've always known how to cook. Did I never cook for you? That can't be right. I love cooking. I used to make meals for Marina all the time." I laughed. All these years of marriage, and he pretended not to know how to cook? "Okay, I get it. You don't love me anymore; you love your star." I settled onto the couch and pushed the divorce agreement towards him. "Look it over. If everything's fine, go ahead and sign it. I'll grant you your love story. I've been a stay-at-home wife these years, no chance to work, no savings. So let's see if you can leave with nothing. Marina's family is so wealthy; they won't mind this small amount of property, right?" Dean didn't hesitate much. After looking through it, he signed without any fuss. "I'm truly sorry. I just can't remember you, and we can't live together anymore, so I'll agree to all your terms." I laughed, collecting the agreement. "Tomorrow, we'll head to the civil office. The house is in your parents' name, so I won't stay here tonight. I have plans for the afternoon, so let's meet at the office first thing." I waved and left the home I'd lived in for years. "I don't need to take anything. Nothing important. Throw it all out if you want." It wasn't until I was in the taxi that I burst out laughing. This was way too easy.