Keep the Mansion, I Chose Myself

My husband and I had lived in different countries for 7 years without seeing each other. He came home the day after I drew up our divorce papers. His first stop wasn't our house. It was my office. When I arrived, he was quietly scolding the student who'd been making my life a living hell. She looked amused, not intimidated. Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. I knocked, interrupting them. She didn't look remotely embarrassed. She just rolled her eyes at me. "My parents are busy. Whatever you have to say, say it to my fiancé. He flew all the way back from Valenne today just to take the scolding for me." The lipstick on his lips brought back a memory from our anniversary last year. This same girl had called me a crazy old virgin in front of hundreds of students. As the lecture hall erupted in laughter, I'd fallen apart and called Julian, begging him to come home and be with me. His answer had been cold. "I'm busy. Deal with it yourself." Julian froze for a second when our eyes met, then gave me a distant nod. "I'm not her fiancé. I'm Sophia's friend. I'm here to apologize for her behavior at school." "Friend? I'm marrying you as soon as I graduate!" "Don't say things like that..." Julian frowned, ready to explain. I cut him off with a smile. "It's fine. You're young. I understand. I hope you two tie the knot soon." Surprise flickered in Julian's usually unreadable eyes. Sophia slipped her arm through his with a smug smile. "Of course we're going to be together. We don't need you to tell us that. He might seem cold, but when I visited him in Valenne, he took a whole week off just for me." 'A whole week.' I repeated it to myself. Our honeymoon had lasted 3 days. On the fourth, Julian had flown back to Valenne. I'd gone home alone with our luggage, watching other newlyweds walk hand in hand through the airport. The pain had been unbearable then. Now, letting him leave was easy. I opened a drawer and took out a form. "Sophia has missed 16 classes this semester. She's repeatedly talked back to instructors in front of the class, and she has a history of bullying her roommates. School policy requires me to notify her family in person." Julian glanced down at the disciplinary notice and frowned. "I'll speak to her family." Sophia shot me an impatient look. "Are you done tattling? We have somewhere to be." He gave her a light tap on the head, a half-hearted warning. I watched in silence. "Okay, okay." She pouted and tugged at his sleeve. "Can we go to that seafood place now? I was so busy editing the pictures you took of me yesterday that I barely ate." My pen stopped moving. He'd been back since yesterday. Maybe longer. And I, his wife, had known nothing about it. "Wait outside," Julian said abruptly. "I need to speak to her." Sophia looked from him to me, suspicious. I smiled and slipped the notice back into the drawer. "We're done here. Go get something to eat before it gets busy." Julian looked at me, baffled. Before he could speak, Sophia laced her fingers through his and pulled him toward the door. "Come on. She said we're done." She pressed against him, chattering away. "Did you get everything I asked you to bring?" "What do you think?" he said, sounding put-upon. "If I'd missed even one thing, you'd never let me hear the end of it." I watched them disappear down the hall, their laughter lingering behind them. Sophia talked about the restaurant, the dishes she wanted to try, the weather in Valenne, and the photos he'd taken of her. For 7 years, I'd barely dared to hope for that kind of closeness with him. Julian had always been ruthlessly practical. If I'd asked him to bring me something, he'd have sent me money and said, "Can you stop pestering me about this?" I couldn't help laughing. We'd dated for 4 years and been married for 3. He'd never taken a photo of me. To him, that was a waste of time. He'd never gone shopping with me, either. That was pointless. He'd received his transfer notice on the third day of our honeymoon. On the fourth, I'd dragged three suitcases home by myself. He wouldn't let me visit him in Valenne, either. He had work to do. For the first few years, I'd stayed up late, working around the time difference for a 5-minute video call once he was done with work. Any longer, and he'd lose patience. "If there's nothing else, let's hang up." I'd thought that if I loved him fiercely enough, he'd eventually let me in. One day, he'd come home to me. Then, on our anniversary last year, Sophia had turned up late to my class again. I reminded her that three absences meant a formal warning. In a lecture hall packed with hundreds of students, she'd smirked. "Professor, are you always this cranky because it's been so long since you got laid?" My eyes burned with angry tears, but I had to hold myself together in front of the class. After work, I'd hidden in my office and called Julian in tears. "Can I come see you in Valenne? Just once. I won't get in the way. Please, Julian. I miss you so much. I just want you to hold me." A few seconds of silence. Then the same familiar answer. "I'm busy. Celebrate on your own." He paused, his patience wearing thin. "Eileen, this is your job. Toughen up. Stop crying over everything." After that, I stopped sending him dozens of messages a day. We hadn't spoken in almost 3 months. Two strangers with a marriage certificate. Connected on paper, living entirely separate lives. After all that time, the person who'd finally brought him back was the student who'd caused me so much misery. I smiled bitterly and opened the drawer again. Beneath Sophia's disciplinary notice lay another document. I'd handled it so often that its edges were starting to fray. Our divorce agreement.