My freshman year of college, I made the impulsive decision to marry my professor.

For four years, I was the one chasing him, clinging to the fragile hope that he might one day see me as more than just an obligation. Recently, though, something had changed. Brian had started calling me his wife and even kissed me of his own accord. Still, as graduation loomed, a nagging suspicion grew in my heart—he wouldn’t acknowledge me in public.

Happiness, as fleeting as fireworks, dissipated on the night of the graduation party. Kate returned.

Brian poured her three glasses of wine and wrapped his arm protectively around her waist. I was right there in the room, watching. My hands trembled as I texted him.

“Brian, I’m going home.”

In my mind, I whispered a silent plea: This is the last time. If you come after me now, I’ll forgive you. I’ll listen to your excuses. After all, I am your wife.

But the minutes stretched into hours and the coldness in my chest deepened. When the party ended, I saw him walk out with Kate in his arms. She leaned against him, her face flushed and they laughed as if they were the only two people in the world.

I stood hidden in the shadows, my heart aching with every second that passed.

Brian, who once took a year to let me share a bed with him and two years to consummate our marriage, now cradled another woman like it was the easiest thing in the world. He even carried her coat and held her so close. Tears blurred my vision as a question screamed in my mind: If you never cared for me, why did you marry me in the first place?

Kate’s soft voice broke through the silence.

“Brian, don’t we have a chance?” she asked, her words laced with a delicate, flirtatious tone.

I waited for his answer, not daring to blink, but the cold night air was my only companion. As the wind whipped around me, my body faltered and I fell to the ground, my fevered state finally taking its toll.

When I came to, the harsh lights of a hospital room greeted me. My party dress had been replaced with a sterile gown. Brian sat on the sofa nearby, his suit jacket draped loosely over his shoulders as he rested, his expression unreadable.

For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to admire him—the gentle curve of his jawline, the quiet strength in his posture. But that love, as deep and consuming as it was, had only ever brought me misery. He had been forced to marry me and perhaps that was the root of it all.

A sob bubbled up from my chest as I whispered, “Brian, let’s divorce.”

Even in his sleep, his brows furrowed as if my words had reached him. But I couldn’t stay any longer. I needed to reclaim whatever dignity I had left. Carefully, I slipped out of bed and walked away.

***

Three days passed in silence. I ignored every call from Brian and focused solely on my plan. I stayed in a hotel, waiting for the divorce papers to arrive, drowning my thoughts in the anonymity of the quiet room. Eventually, I turned off my phone, unwilling to face anything that reminded me of him.

Then, the unexpected happened. The police knocked on my door and behind them stood Brian—disheveled, unshaven and desperate. Before I could speak, he pulled me into his arms, holding me as if letting go would shatter him.

For a brief moment, it felt like old times.

I had once dreamed of being held this tightly, cradled against his chest, where his scent—now mixed with alcohol and regret—wrapped around me. But dreams and reality are cruelly different.

The heart longs for what the mind cannot accept. And in that moment, even though his touch brought comfort, it couldn’t erase the truth.

Our love was broken beyond repair.

Brian’s voice trembled as he spoke, his usually calm demeanor shattered.

“Elise, do you even understand how terrified I was when I thought something might happen to you?”

His words hung in the air, heavy but strangely hollow.

“How would I explain it to your father if something happened to you?”

Of course, I thought bitterly. His concern wasn’t for me—it was for his promise to my father. He didn’t love me. He never did. He was just fulfilling an obligation.

The police chimed in, their words a quiet reminder of societal expectations.

“Husbands and wives should try to understand each other. Your husband is worried about you.”

Worried. The word echoed in my mind like a cruel joke. He wasn’t worried about me; he was worried about breaking his word. For Brian, promises were everything. I would never be more than that—a duty to fulfill.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pulled away from his arms, forcing myself to ignore the warmth I had once longed for.

“Brian, I want a divorce. Let’s end this—today.”

My voice cracked, but my gaze was steady, unyielding.

His expression darkened with something I couldn’t place—fear, perhaps? He stepped forward, reaching for my hand.

“Elise, wait. Let me explain—”

I cut him off, retreating further.

“There’s nothing left to explain. I just want a divorce.”

The silence between us stretched unbearably, interrupted only when the lawyer arrived with the divorce papers. I watched Brian’s face as he read through them. His jaw clenched and for the second time in my life, I saw his eyes fill with unrestrained emotion. The first time was when my father died.

“Elise,” he said, his voice rough, “you’ve already decided you don’t want me. But this isn’t up to you alone. I won’t agree to a divorce.”

With that, he tore the papers in half and stormed out, leaving me standing in the suffocating silence of our shared home.

***

I didn’t understand why Brian refused to let go. Maybe it was still about his promise to my father. He was a good man, but he wasn’t a good husband. And now, four years later, his true love had returned. I wasn’t blind to it. I wasn’t naive. I didn’t need him anymore.

Determined to end this sham of a marriage, I returned to our home to pack my things and leave. But as I opened the door, I was greeted by a sight that sent my blood boiling.

Kate.

She was standing in the kitchen, wearing my pajamas and holding a spatula like she was the lady of the house. She turned to me with a casual smile, utterly unbothered by my presence.

“You must be Elise,” she said, pushing her chest out in a display of confidence. “Come on in. Brian hasn’t been feeling well these past few days. He’ll be back soon.”

I stared at her, incredulous. Not divorced and they were already living together? It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. Perhaps Brian had prepared a place for her long ago, just waiting for me to move out.

Without a word, I walked past her into the bedroom, grabbed my suitcase and started packing.

Kate followed me, her tone indignant.

“What are you doing?”

I didn’t bother looking at her.

“Making space for you two,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

The sound of shoes being kicked off in the entryway interrupted us. Brian was home.

Kate’s demeanor shifted instantly. Her eyes reddened as if on command, her lip trembling in practiced distress. She darted behind Brian as he entered the room, clutching his arm like a damsel in distress.

It was a scene straight out of a bad drama.

“Seriously?” I muttered under my breath, disgusted by the performance. I wanted nothing more than to leave this house and never look back.

***

Brian looked worse for wear—his face pale, his movements sluggish. He glanced at me, then at Kate, his frown deepening.

“Kate, thank you for taking care of me. But you should go home now.”

Kate’s eyes widened, filling with tears that didn’t quite fall.

“I’m not leaving, Brian,” she said, her voice wavering. “I want to explain to Elise. How can she accuse me of being the other woman?”

She turned to me, her expression painted with mock sincerity.

“Our relationship has always been clean... How can you say otherwise?”

I stared at her, fury burning in my chest. Her words, her tone, her very presence was like a knife twisting in my heart.

Brian’s eyes never left mine, as if waiting for something—for me to relent, to say I believed him. But I was done. There was no trust left to salvage, no love left to give.

This was the end. It had to be.

Brian's expression darkened, his brows furrowing into a tight knot as my words hit him.

“Nonsense,” he muttered under his breath, his tone sharp.

I didn’t have the patience for his dismissive attitude, nor could I bear to listen to their flirtatious banter. My heart felt like it was shattering into a thousand jagged pieces, but I refused to let it show. I focused on packing my clothes, my hands working methodically as I muttered to myself, trying to drown out the pain.

“The divorce agreement is in my bag,” I said aloud, though mostly to myself. “I’ve signed it. Next Monday, we’ll go to the civil registry. Thirty days of silence doesn’t bother me. I’ll move back into my old house. As for the property, I don’t want any of it...”

Brian’s voice cut me off, roughened by a violent cough.

“We’re not divorcing,” he said, his tone firm as though it was the final word. “Elise, listen to me—let me explain.”

I stopped packing long enough to glare at him. “I don’t care about your explanation. I just want a divorce.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging as he tried again.

“Kate is one of my first students. Of course, I feel something for her, but it’s only the bond between a teacher and a student. You’re reading too much into this.”

His words were a knife twisting in my chest, but I refused to falter. “I don’t care about your bond. I’m done, Brian. I don’t need you anymore. I’ve graduated and I’m no longer bound by my father’s wishes. It’s over. And honestly? I don’t even like you anymore.”

I took a step closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t push me. I... I find you dirty.”

The words came out like poison, burning on my tongue. Brian flinched as though I had slapped him, but I didn’t stop.

Kate, still standing behind him, smirked triumphantly. Her presence was a constant reminder of everything I’d lost, everything I could never have.

***

Tears blurred my vision as I stuffed the last of my clothes into my suitcase. I hated how vulnerable I felt, how weak my trembling hands betrayed me. After my father’s death, Brian had been my rock, my sky. But now, that sky had crumbled, leaving me in suffocating darkness.

As I struggled to fit everything into the suitcase, Brian stepped forward, grabbing a parcel to help. His movements were calm and deliberate, as if my anger was nothing more than a tantrum.

“We’ll talk once you’ve calmed down,” he said gently.

His patronizing tone was unbearable—like punching a pillow, soft and unyielding. My words felt powerless, my anger impotent.

I paused at the door, turning to face Kate one last time. Her smug smile hadn’t wavered.

“Kate,” I said, my voice icy, “the clothes you’re wearing? Consider them a gift. They’re cheap, just like second-hand goods. I never cared for them and I hope you won’t treat them like treasure.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I left with my dignity barely intact.

***

A Month Later

I gave up my coveted chance to stay at the university. It didn’t matter. Brian didn’t sign the divorce papers. Thirty days of silence came and went and I heard through the grapevine that he’d been in a car accident on the very day I declined the offer to stay.

Apparently, he was in a rush to confirm the retention list for students. My roommate mentioned it offhandedly, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Was he worried about me staying? Or was it Kate he feared losing?

I tried not to think about it, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that her name was also on the list.

Three days later, my classmates organized a visit to the hospital. I went too, though I didn’t go inside. From the doorway, I saw Brian lying in the hospital bed. Kate was by his side, feeding him fruit, laughing as if nothing had ever gone wrong.

That sight broke something in me. I turned and left without saying a word.

The next day, I boarded a plane to London.

***

A New Beginning

London became my sanctuary. I enrolled in a university there, throwing myself into work and study to escape the ghosts of my past. My father had left me a bank account and Brian still sent me money every month, but I refused to touch any of it. He was no longer my anchor, no longer my sky.

My roommate was baffled by my decision to leave.

“Elise, staying at your old school was such a great opportunity. Why would you give that up?”

I offered a small, tired smile. “I just needed a change of scenery. I’ll go back eventually.”

I didn’t tell her the whole truth. I wasn’t just running away—I was trying to rebuild myself.

Over the year, my feelings for Brian began to fade. The pain lessened, replaced by a quiet numbness. But life has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect it.

***

One night, a year after leaving, I found myself in a bustling London pub. The air buzzed with conversation and the clinking of glasses. The lights were dim, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. I was finally beginning to feel free, unburdened by the weight of my past.

And then, I saw him.

Brian.

Our eyes met across the room and the world seemed to stop.