Chapter 5
March 9, 2017. Two years married. Adrian ate dinner at home for the first time. He said my cooking was good! Finally, my new skills are useful.
August 31, 2018. While cooking today, Adrian actually asked me to add chili and cilantro. He said, since we're married, I shouldn't always be the one to compromise, and that he should change for me too. I'm so touched I could cry! But seriously, how hard is it to just say you love me, Adrian, you stubborn man?
May 21, 2019. Fourth anniversary! Adrian took me to the movies and even prepared a gift. The way he kissed me under the streetlight… He's so handsome. No, no, we're old married folks now. I have to play it cool.
May 21, 2020. Lately, Adrian's been coming home more often. I asked him why. He said… because he missed me.
October 20, 2022. Vanessa Grant is back. Adrian didn't come home all night.
February 1, 2023. Adrian threw out all the couple sets in the house. He called them childish.
May 21, 2024. Adrian carries more and more of Vanessa's scent.
December 31, 2024. We fought. He swore nothing happened with Vanessa, that they're innocent. He said he's already married me, so what more could I possibly want?
March 26, 2025. Today, Adrian looked at me and sighed. He said, "Jules, if you keep being like this, what's the point of going on?"
A journal. Hundreds of pages. Tracing the arc of our love from burning bright, to cracking apart piece by piece until it froze.
And then, the memories I had lost came crashing back.
I remembered the day I drafted the divorce agreement.
I'd overheard Adrian drinking with his friends.
"Adrian, your wife's stuck by you all these years. What's so special about Vanessa that you still can't let her go?"
Adrian had gone quiet for a long time. Finally, he said, "There's no reason. I just… can't forget her."
I had seen Adrian at his most loving, and I finally understood that his love was never whole.
That night, I crouched on the balcony and cried until the moon sank and the sun rose.
-
When Adrian came home, I had just finished signing my name at the bottom of the divorce agreement.
He stood in the doorway, staring silently. In his palm, two rings pressed into his skin, sharp enough to sting. He couldn't explain why he'd gone into that jewelry store.
Why, without hesitation, he'd reported the exact size of my ring finger to the clerk.
Why he'd bought a pair of wedding bands as if making a decision he'd put off for years.
He stepped toward me, his Adam's apple shifting, like the words were caught in his throat. "Jules, we—"
His hand lifted, the rings catching the light, just before I thrust the divorce papers into it.
"Adrian, the thirty-year-old me doesn't want you. And neither does the twenty-year-old me. We're done. Let's get divorced."
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