A World Cup Without You

It was game day. A light rain had been falling over the city since evening, but it did nothing to dampen the frenzy of the fans.

Reid left the house at 3:00 pm. He was wearing his brand-new Portugal jersey, his hair styled without a strand out of place.

"The client's pushing for an early start, so I'm heading out." He was at the entryway changing his shoes, barely able to contain his excitement. "Don't wait up tonight. Get some sleep."

I sat on the couch and watched him close the door behind him. The apartment instantly fell completely silent. I stood up and placed the signed divorce papers neatly in the center of the coffee table. Beside them, I set down the necklace he had given me.

I slowly slid the diamond ring off my left ring finger. I had worn it for four years, and when it finally came off, it left a deep groove pressed into my skin.

I walked to the wardrobe and pulled open the bottom drawer. Tucked underneath everything else was an Argentina jersey in blue and white. It had been washed so many times that it had faded. This was the very one he had long since dismissed.

I slipped the ring, the one that was supposed to symbolize a lifetime of love, into the jersey pocket. Then, I zipped my suitcase shut.

At 8:00 pm, I sat in the airport terminal. The screens overhead were running pre-game coverage for the match that was about to begin, and crowds of people in jerseys filled the halls with noise.

My phone buzzed. It was a video from Nola.

The footage was dim and hazy inside the private room at the bar. Nola was wearing a cropped, tight-fitting jersey, sitting openly on Reid's lap without a shred of self-consciousness.

Reid was smiling, lifting a glass of wine to her lips. Around them, his friends were egging him on.

"Reid, kiss her, kiss her!"

Reid did not refuse. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of her face. Nola flashed a victory sign at the camera.

The message read: [Sorry, but from now on, I'll be the one at his side for every big moment. Sweet dreams, Ms. Whitley.]

I looked at the man on my screen, laughing without a care in the world, and felt nothing at all. There was no anger and no heartbreak, just the quiet relief of something finally settling into place.

I opened the chat with Nola and typed two words: [Perfect match.]

Then, I held down the power button and turned my phone off completely. I pulled out the SIM card I had been using for years and dropped it into the trash.

The boarding announcement echoed through the terminal speakers. I stood, took hold of my suitcase, and walked toward the security checkpoint. Outside, the world was loud with celebration, and in here, there was only the stillness of leaving alone.

However, that was alright. From now on, my world belonged to no one but me.

…

At 11:00 pm, the match officially kicked off. Inside the bar, the atmosphere hit its peak.

Reid was glued to the big screen, his arm wrapped tight around Nola's waist. Just then, the phone in his pocket started buzzing relentlessly. He pulled it out with an irritated frown and glanced at the caller ID.

It was an unfamiliar landline number. He nearly declined it, but something made him hesitate. He could not explain the sudden flicker of unease.

He pushed Nola aside, covered his other ear with his hand, and stepped out of the room to take the call.

"Who is this?" he shouted over the roar of cheering that erupted as a goal was scored.

On the other end was a calm, measured voice, sounding entirely professional.

"Mr. Callister, good evening. I'm the attorney representing Ms. Brynn Whitley. Ms. Whitley has signed the divorce agreement. The papers are currently on the coffee table in your shared residence. She has asked me to inform you that she has left, and she requests that you complete the divorce proceedings at your earliest convenience."

The smile froze on Reid's face. In that single moment, the deafening roar inside the bar seemed to fall away.