He Smiled at Her, I Packed to Leave

Amaris discovered that her husband, Stellan, always calm, reserved, and self-possessed, was being unfaithful. Through the slats of the conference room blinds, Amaris saw a girl with her hair tied in a high ponytail leaning close beside Stellan, holding a set of documents. The two stood very near each other. "Mr. Blackwood, you are far too strict! I have really checked these figures three times already!" The girl's voice was young, lively, and completely uninhibited. Stellan, who had always remained distant and unaffected by attention from others, looked slightly upward at the girl. Though his face showed no expression, the warmth in his eyes was unmistakable. Amaris remembered that Stellan had mentioned this girl before. Her name was Annika Sutherland, and she was a new intern. 'Like a sunflower,' she thought silently to herself as she repeated the name. 'Like a flower growing freely and vigorously at the height of summer.' The meeting appeared to have ended. The girl naturally began to gather Stellan's papers, and her fingertips brushed lightly against the back of his hand. Stellan did not pull away. Instead, he leaned down and said something to her, which made the girl's eyes curve like crescent moons. Amaris pressed her fingers deep into her palms without feeling any pain, until her phone slipped from her knees and made a soft sound when it hit the floor. Stellan looked up and paused noticeably. "Amaris? What are you doing here?" He strode over quickly, his brow drawn tight. Amaris bent down to pick up her phone, her fingers trembling as she typed: Just came to pick up medication. After a short pause, she added: I was passing by the office and thought I would stop in to see you. Early that morning, as sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains and filled the bedroom, Amaris woke abruptly from a dream, only to find the space beside her in bed already empty. She went through her usual routine of washing and dressing. On the vanity, her daily medications were arranged neatly in their compartments. The small section at the far end was empty, she had run out of contraceptive pills. Amaris bit gently on her lower lip. Normally, Stellan had his assistant restock them regularly, but lately he had been so busy that it had slipped his mind. She picked up her phone to send a message, then set it down again. It would be simpler to just go to his office, she decided. Her art studio did not have classes until the afternoon anyway. The thought made her heartbeat quicken slightly. In all their years of marriage, she had almost never gone to his workplace to disturb him. Perhaps it was because of the subtle changes in Stellan's behavior these past few days, but she had suddenly felt as though something important was missing from her life. She had never imagined she would walk in and see exactly what she had witnessed. Later, as they walked out, he placed one arm around her waist and said he would drive her back to the studio. The elevator held only the two of them. Amaris stared at the numbers lighting up one after another above the door, aware that Stellan's gaze rested on the side of her face. "She is just a new recruit recommended by one of our business partners AD," he said suddenly. "She has fresh ideas, but she is far too talkative." Amaris pressed her lips together and used hand signs to communicate to him. "She seems very lively." He frowned in response. "You know, I do not like loud or noisy people." When the elevator reached the first floor, Amaris stepped out quickly, but Stellan followed immediately and caught hold of her wrist. "I will come pick you up at the studio when you finish in the afternoon," he said. This was his usual routine. Every day after work, he would wait downstairs for her. But as he drove her back, he held a cigarette in one hand and rested the other on the steering wheel. He never smoked in front of her... not normally. Yet this was how he always behaved whenever he felt stressed or unsettled. All of Stellan's friends were aware that she could not speak. But she recalled the previous month, at the company dinner, when a new client had heard she was unable to talk and had let a look of surprise flash across his face. That same night, Stellan had stood beside her, his arm wrapped gently around her shoulders as he explained the situation to everyone present. Yet as soon as they stepped outside into the hallway near the restrooms, he had lit up and smoked three cigarettes in a row. Amaris turned her face toward the window and watched the scenery passing by outside in silence. In truth, Stellan had always seemed like the perfect husband. In the five years they had been married, he would always bring home chestnut cake from her favorite pastry shop after business dinners, even if it meant driving all the way across the city to get there. He had hired the best sign language instructor available for her, and in his office, there was always a stack of note pads ready so she could write down anything she wanted to say. Once, when she had developed a high fever in the middle of the night, he had canceled an important meeting scheduled for the following day and spent the whole night wiping her body with cool, damp cloths until her temperature came down at dawn. Everyone said that Mr. Blackwood doted on his wife beyond measure. Thinking back on it, she had to admit that was true. Even though losing her voice had never been her fault, she still found herself feeling guilty and would repeatedly sign the words "I am sorry" to him. Each time, Stellan would take her hands in his and reply, "Do not say that. You lost your voice because you saved my life." He had said those words many times. He had said them on their wedding day, when she could not speak the words "I do" and could only nod in agreement. He had told them when she was unable to call him affectionate names over the phone like other wives did. And even in their most intimate moments, when she could make nothing more than faint breathy sounds, he would hold her close and remind her of the truth. As dusk settled, the art studio grew so quiet that Amaris could hear only the soft scratching of a pencil against drawing paper. She set down her pencil and rubbed her wrist, which had grown stiff and sore. She glanced at her phone. He should be arriving soon. At this time of day, Stellan's black sedan was usually already parked in its usual spot. He would lean against the car door reading documents, and when she came running out to throw her arms around him, he would catch her firmly. But today, the car was not there. Instead, from the passenger seat, the side that was always reserved for her, first appeared a foot in white sneakers, followed by the hem of a butter-yellow dress. Annika Sutherland stepped out. When she saw Amaris, her eyes lit up instantly, but Amaris felt as though the ground was shifting beneath her feet. "Amaris!"