Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
At three in the morning, anaphylactic shock hit me like a freight train. My throat clamped shut. I gasped for air, clutching my husband’s arm beside me.
Austin shoved me away with an irritated grunt.
"What are you screaming about in the middle of the night? Don’t you know I have a major meeting tomorrow?"
He turned over, pulled the duvet over his head, and within seconds, his heavy snores filled the room again.
Clinging to my fading consciousness, I grabbed my phone and called an Uber to the ER.
The ER doctor looked at my vitals and shook his head. "Ten more minutes, and your airway would have closed completely. You wouldn't have made it."
Later, sitting in the fluorescent-lit ER waiting lounge with an IV needle taped to the back of my hand, I spotted someone familiar.
My husband. The man who was supposedly fast asleep in our bed.
Austin was holding a young woman’s hand with both of his, his brows tightly knitted, his eyes overflowing with heartbreak.
"How could you be so careless? Why didn't you call me the second you scratched yourself?"
The woman leaned softly against his shoulder. Her finger bore nothing more than a tiny red scratch—barely visible to the naked eye.
I had almost died suffocating at home, and he thought I was too noisy.
Yet here he was, treating a microscopic paper cut like a five-alarm emergency.
As the two of them walked past me in a sweet, tender embrace, I watched them quietly.
Our nine-year marriage was officially over.
Ten minutes later, Austin walked back down the hallway, his arm wrapped around the same woman.
His voice carried a tenderness I hadn't heard in years.
"I’m staying the night with you. Don’t be scared, okay? I’m right here."
She let out a cute, delicate whimper and nestled her head deeper into his chest.
The IV fluid dripped rhythmically into the back of my bruised hand.
They walked toward me, whispering intimately like newlyweds who had just walked out of city hall.
I opened my mouth and spoke.
"Where are you two planning to sleep tonight?"
Austin froze.
"Should I head back and make up our master bedroom for you guys?"
Only then did he look down and see me sitting on the plastic ER chair.
"Clara?"
His brow furrowed instantly.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
I stared straight into his eyes.
I was the one who had nearly suffocated to death in our bed.
And he had the audacity to ask what I was doing here.
"Anaphylactic shock," I said. My voice was eerily calm. "The doctor said ten more minutes, and you’d be planning my funeral."
A crack finally appeared in Austin’s composed mask.
His lips parted. His eyes darted away, desperately trying to recall what had happened hours earlier.
He remembered.
The shove he gave me had been quite forceful, after all.
"I... well, I thought it was just your usual..."
"Usual what?" I cut him off. "My usual inability to breathe? My usual almost dying?"
The woman beside him tugged gently on his sleeve and whispered, "Austin, maybe you should take me home first? Your wife..."
"Shut up," I snapped, glaring at her.
She flinched.
I ignored her and turned back to Austin.
He stood beneath the harsh hospital lights, his hand still firmly supporting her arm.
I had nearly choked to death, and he told me I was making too much noise.
"How long have you been cheating on me?"
Austin’s face instantly flushed crimson.
"What did you just say?"
"I asked how long you've been sleeping with her."
"Clara, have you lost your damn mind?" His voice spiked, drawing stares from other patients waiting nearby. "You come to the hospital in the middle of the night just to throw a psychotic tantrum? I’m just helping a coworker get patched up in the ER!"
"A coworker?" I scoffed. "You tuck your coworkers in at night?"
He rubbed his face aggressively, annoyance dripping from every pore. "I knew you’d pull this."
"Pull what?"
"Your crazy, paranoid routine." He pointed a finger inches from my nose. "We’ve been married for nine years. Have you ever trusted me for a single second? If I grab lunch with a team member, you sulk. If I say three words to a female colleague, you demand to check my phone. Now someone gets hurt, I give her a ride to urgent care, and you accuse me of having an affair?"
The woman chimed in, putting on her best victim face.
"It’s really not what you think, Mrs. Davis. Austin and I are just coworkers. I accidentally cut my finger, and he was kind enough to bring me in for a bandage. If I caused a misunderstanding, I’m truly sorry."
She lowered her head, her eyes brimming with theatrical tears.
Austin immediately wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Don't apologize to her. You're already hurt. Don't lower yourself to her level."
I sat in the chair, feeling the needle in my vein throb with each heartbeat.
What a pathetic show.
His wife had almost died, and instead of showing a shred of remorse, he stood there coddling another woman and calling me insane.
"Fine," I nodded. "Enjoy playing hero."I pulled out my phone and snapped a crisp photo of them.
Austin lunged forward to snatch it, but I dodged him.
"Clara! What the hell are you doing?"
"Taking a souvenir for court."
The irritation on his face finally morphed into raw panic.
"Delete it!"
"No."
"Are you sick in the head? Haven't you caused enough of a scene tonight?"
He reached for my phone again.
I dropped it straight into my purse and looked him dead in the eye. "Touch me one more time, and I’ll hit the nurse call button. I'll tell them you’re assaulting an IV patient."
His hand froze mid-air.
The woman tugged at his coat, subtly shaking her head.
Austin’s chest heaved with suppressed rage before he finally took a step back.
"Clara, you are an absolute disappointment."
"Right back at you."
"Let’s go, Chloe," he said, turning around and steering her away. "I’m taking you home."
Chloe hesitated, gave me one last pitiful glance, and hurried after him.
The glass automatic doors slid open, and they vanished into the night.
I sat alone on the cold plastic chair, listening to the steady drip of my IV bag.
A nurse walked over to check my line and frowned. "No family with you?"
"No."
"Someone should be monitoring you. Anaphylaxis is life-threatening."
"He's busy."
The nurse didn't pry further, adjusted the flow rate, and walked away.
By 4:15 AM, the drip finally ran dry.
It was almost 5:00 AM when I stepped through our front door.
The lock was already turned.
I pushed the door open. The living room light was on, but the apartment was dead quiet.
In the entryway, half of Austin’s shoes were gone.
I walked into the bedroom. The closet doors hung wide open; most of his suits and casual clothes had been cleared out.
In the bathroom, his electric toothbrush, razor, and skincare products were missing.
In the study, drawers were left a mess, with copies of documents scattered across the desk.
I stood in the living room for a long time, looking around the home we had shared for six years.
Back in college, when Austin and I first started dating, I accidentally cut my finger on a broken beaker in the lab.
It was just a tiny, shallow scratch.
He was in the middle of a basketball game when I texted him. He dropped the ball instantly and sprinted across three campuses in the pouring rain just to reach my lab.
He had burst through the doors, panting, gripping my hand with red, terrified eyes.
*How could you be so careless?*
*Don't you ever stay in the lab alone this late again.*
*Does it hurt?*
The words he had said to me back then were identical to the words he whispered to Chloe in the ER tonight.
It turned out he could say that to anyone.
It wasn't love. It was just a script he recycled.
I sat down at the desk, opened my laptop, and downloaded a standard divorce settlement template.
It took me forty minutes to fill out the terms.
The house stays with me. The car stays with me. Our savings are split fifty-fifty.
Sent.
I shut the laptop and walked over to the window.
The city lights were sparse against the twilight. I sat there in silence until dawn broke across the horizon, watching the first ray of golden sunlight hit my knees.
My phone buzzed.
Austin had replied.
Just three words: *What is this?*
I stared at the screen for a long time.
The sun was up now, glaring off the glass.
I typed back, letter by letter:
*Exactly what it looks like. Nine years. We’re done.*
He replied in seconds: *Have you completely lost your mind? What kind of midnight tantrum is this?*
I let out a cold laugh, my fingers flying over the keyboard.
*My mind has never been clearer.*
Thirty seconds ticked by before his next text popped up: *What do you actually want?*
*A divorce.*
*In your dreams.*
*Fine.*
I typed out one final sentence, paused for a beat, and hit send:
*Then I’m calling your mother right now to let her know you've been cheating.*
Silence hung over the chat for three full minutes.
Then my phone lit up with an incoming call from Austin.
I picked up.
"Clara, are you threatening me? I told you, I didn't cheat!"
"Austin, you forgot to clear out that old iPhone sitting in the study drawer."The other end of the line went dead silent.
"What photos?" he stammered.
"The old phone in the bottom desk drawer. The hidden photo vault."
"Forty-seven photos of you and Chloe between last November and this March. Twelve of them are timestamps of you two making out."
Heavy, ragged breathing came through the speaker.
"You went through my phone?"
"You left it in *my* desk drawer."
"Clara!" His voice rose in pitch. "Do you have any idea how out of line that is?"
"You having an affair isn't out of line, but me opening a drawer is?"
"I didn't have an affair! Those photos are—"
"Are what? Photoshopped? A bad camera angle? You two locking lips is just an optical illusion?"
Silence.
"I’m coming over right now," he spat, then hung up.
I set the phone on the table, walked into the kitchen, and poured a glass of warm water.
My throat still stung with every swallow.
Before I could finish the glass, my phone vibrated again.
It was my mother-in-law, Eleanor.
*Clara, honey, are you and Austin coming over for Sunday dinner this week? You looked so thin the last time we FaceTimed. Are you eating well?*
I stared at her message, my eyes burning.
Eleanor had always treated me like her own daughter.
She was so good to me that for years, she made me feel like marrying Austin hadn't been a complete mistake.
I typed back: *Work is a bit crazy this week, Mom. I’ll come visit as soon as things settle down.*
I locked the screen and placed it face down.
A few minutes later, the front door lock clicked open.
Austin had returned.
And he wasn't alone.
Chloe followed right behind him into the apartment.
Austin slammed his keys onto the coffee table with a sharp clatter.
"You wanted to talk? Let’s talk face-to-face."
Chloe walked over and sat carefully on the edge of the sofa, her hands resting meekly on her knees.
"Clara, I know this looks bad..."
"There's no misunderstanding here."
"Austin told me what happened at the hospital. You think that—"
"I don't think. I know."
She shot a nervous glance at Austin.
Austin didn't look at her; his eyes were glued to me. "Clara, what the hell do you want?"
"I made it very clear in the email. Uncontested divorce. I get the apartment, the car, and half our savings."
"On what grounds?"
"On the grounds that you're an adulterer."
The room went dead silent for ten seconds.
"If you sign," I continued, "we tell everyone we grew apart and parted ways amicably. I won't say a single word to your mother."
Austin didn't reply right away.
He slumped into the armchair opposite me, elbows resting on his knees, staring down at the hardwood floor.
"I bought this apartment," he mumbled bitterly.
"Your mother gave us the down payment. We've been paying the mortgage together for four years, and my paycheck covers the monthly payments directly."
"I bought the car in cash."
"The car you bought in cash was totaled three years ago. The current one was financed using my personal credit line."
"As for our savings—there's fifty thousand dollars total. Twenty-five thousand each. That’s fair."
He clenched his jaw until his temples twitched.
"You’ve been planning this."
"How long have you been planning your affair?"
"You—"
He stood up abruptly, then sank back down under my calm gaze.
"Clara, can't we just talk like reasonable adults?"
"There's nothing left to negotiate. If you don't agree, I'll dial your mother right this second."
I looked at him coldly.
"You know what she hates more than anything in this world. She divorced your father because he stepped out on her. Who do you think she’ll side with once she sees those photos?"
Austin’s color drained from his face.
He knew.
Eleanor’s hatred for cheating men was etched into her very bones.
"Austin..." Chloe spoke up suddenly.
Her voice trembled, sounding like she was on the verge of breaking.
"If you give up everything... what happens to me? What happens to the baby?"I turned my head toward her.
"The baby?"
Her hand instinctively moved to protect her lower abdomen.
Before she could say another word, Austin exploded.
"Chloe! Shut up!"
"Austin, we can't hide it anymore," she cried, looking up with tear-filled eyes. "The doctor confirmed it last month. I’m six weeks along."
I leaned back against the sofa cushions, staring at the back of Austin’s rigid neck.
His shoulders were wound tight like coiled springs.
Six weeks ago, Austin had gone to New York on a business trip.
He had been gone for a full week.
When he got back, he brought me a box of fancy bagels, claiming a local coworker had recommended the bakery.
Looking back now, it wasn't a coworker's recommendation. It was Chloe's.
"So," I asked calmly, "what’s the plan?"
Chloe stayed quiet, looking desperately at Austin.
Austin stood up, walked to the window, and stared out with his back turned to both of us.
"Clara, listen to me," his voice dropped to a muffled murmur. "I can explain..."
"Explain what? Explain why you got another woman pregnant while married to me?"
"Keep your damn voice down!" He whipped around. "Fine! I admit it! Chloe and I are together!"
He took a slow, jagged breath.
"But divorce isn't something you can just dictate on a whim. You expect to walk away with the house *and* the car?"
"You committed adultery. You're lucky I'm leaving you with a single penny."
"Clara, don't push your luck!"
"Me? Pushing my luck?"
I rose from the couch, staring him down.
"Austin, I nearly suffocated to death in our bed last night. You shoved me away because I was too loud, and then you rushed to the ER to pamper your mistress over a paper cut."
"I gave you nine years of my life! I changed jobs three times just to relocate for your promotions! When your mother was hospitalized, I took unpaid leave to wipe her down and feed her! When you had internal stomach bleeding, I slept on a hospital chair beside you for seven straight days and nights!"
"And you have the nerve to tell me I’m pushing my luck?"
He had no words.
Chloe’s sniffling broke the silence. "Clara... please don't back him into a corner like this..."
"Shut your mouth," I said without even sparing her a glance. "You haven't even walked down the aisle, and you're already scheming over another woman's marital assets?"
Chloe’s lips trembled, and she shrank back into the cushions.
Austin glared at me, his eyes bloodshot.
"Fine. I agree."
"Austin!" Chloe gasped, shooting up from the couch. "If you agree to this, what about our future? What about the baby?"
Austin walked over, rested a hand heavily on her shoulder, and dropped his voice to a whisper.
"My mother is sitting on that massive commercial buyout check from the family estate. You know that."
Chloe’s sobbing hitched.
"If she finds out I cheated, she won't give me a single dime. But if Clara and I part ways amicably, Mom will still pass the inheritance to me. I’ll take care of you."
He turned back to face me. "I accept your terms."
"Good. The agreement is in your inbox. Print it and sign it."
"I have one condition."
"Name it."
"You delete every single file from that old phone. No backups."
"I've already backed them up to the cloud."
His face darkened again.
"Sign the papers quietly, and nobody ever sees them," I said evenly. "Try to pull any tricks, and every photo goes straight to your mother's phone."He fell silent.
Chloe stood beside him, one hand over her stomach and the other gripping his sleeve, her face a twisted mask of resentment.
"Fine," Austin finally muttered.
I walked into the study and printed two copies of the settlement agreement.
I laid them on the coffee table and handed Austin a pen.
The very second his pen tip hovered over the signature line, the doorbell rang.
All three of us froze.
Austin instinctively dropped the pen, staring at the entryway in dread.
I walked over and peeked through the peephole.
My stomach dropped.
It was Eleanor.
I turned back to look at Austin.
The blood instantly vanished from his face, leaving him a ghastly paper-white.
"Who is it?" he whispered, his voice cracking.
"Your mother."
Chloe sprang up from the sofa as if burned, all color draining from her skin.
"Why is she here?"
"You tell me."
The bell chimed again, followed by Eleanor’s muffled voice through the wood: "Clara, sweetie? Are you home?"
I pressed down the handle, and the door swung open. Eleanor walked in, carrying a large insulated thermos.
"You mentioned you were swamped with work, but you still need to eat properly. I made some braised pork ribs and soup for you."
As she stepped inside, her gaze swept across the living room.
Chloe was still standing awkwardly by the sofa.
The warm smile on Eleanor’s face froze.
"Who’s this?"
"Mom, this is... a coworker. She just stopped by to pick up some files," Austin blurted out, rushing forward.
Eleanor didn't buy it for a second. Her sharp gaze darted back and forth between Austin and Chloe.
"A coworker?" she asked, her voice dangerously calm. "Picking up work files at six in the morning?"
"We worked late last night. She forgot her notes."
"Where are her shoes?"
Austin looked down.
Chloe was wearing fuzzy slippers.
*My* slippers.
Eleanor slowly set the thermos down on the entryway console and walked into the living room, taking a seat on the couch.
"Clara, come sit down."
She patted the cushion beside her.
I walked over and sat down.
"Mom."
"Austin, keep your mouth shut," Eleanor commanded.
Her tone wasn't loud, but it carried an authority that snapped Austin’s jaw shut immediately.
"Clara, tell me. What is going on here?"
"Mom, it’s really nothing—" Austin tried to cut in.
"I didn't ask you."
Eleanor didn't even look his way. Her eyes stayed locked on my face.
"Clara. Tell me the truth."
I took a deep breath and looked straight at Austin.
"Mom... last night, I went into anaphylactic shock. I almost died."
Eleanor’s expression shifted instantly to shock. "What?"
"At three in the morning, Austin pushed me off the bed and told me I was making too much noise. I had to call an Uber to the ER by myself. The doctor told me that if I had been ten minutes later, I would have suffocated to death."
"Austin Davis!" Eleanor snapped her head around, her voice booming.
"Mom, let me explain—"
"While I was hooked to an IV, he was at the same hospital, holding another woman’s hand," I continued without missing a beat. "She had a scratch on her finger, and he was treating it like a tragedy. Meanwhile, his wife was dying in the other room, and he didn't care."
I paused, then pointedly glanced at Chloe.
"And one more thing. She’s pregnant. Six weeks."
Chapters (5)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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