I stared at him blankly, my face devoid of emotion.
After all these years together.
Every time he cried, something in me softened—my anger, my resolve, everything.
Whatever he wanted, I gave in.
When he asked to convert a room into a private studio, I agreed without hesitation.
Even when he put up a sign on the door that read: “Nicole and dogs, keep out,” I didn’t say a word.
I didn’t care—until now.
But something had changed.
Something had snapped.
“There’s nothing left to talk about, Jason. I don’t love you anymore.”
His eyelashes trembled violently, as if I’d struck him with a knife.
“What… what did you just say?”
“Nicole, we have a child now. How can you say something like that so casually? Don’t you feel even a shred of guilt?”
He looked completely broken, chest rising and falling rapidly, unable to process my words.
Seeing how far things had escalated, his father let out an angry snort.
“Nicole, wasn’t it you who wanted this in the first place?”
“If you go through with the divorce, you’ll leave with nothing. You’ll be kicked out of the house and have no place to go!”
I closed my eyes and didn’t respond.
My silence only made them more furious.
Curses and insults followed like a flood.
They picked up Jason, who was nearly collapsing in tears, and prepared to leave.
“Get up! You’re rich, talented—you could marry any woman you want. What’s the use of crying over someone like her? Let’s go!”
But their anger couldn’t mask their confusion.
They couldn’t understand how what they believed to be a perfect marriage had fallen apart so quickly, so irreparably.
Shortly after, my best friend Cindy Lang came rushing to the hospital as soon as she heard I’d been injured.
“Nicole! You’ve never been this cruel before. What happened to you?”
She had also heard about the divorce—and everything else.
The night my husband shattered a porcelain vase over my head during a family dinner to protect his childhood sweetheart had become the talk of the town.
Locally, I’d become a punchline, a walking joke on social media.
She glanced at my stitched-up forehead and bruises, then exhaled deeply, trying to stay calm.
“Weren’t you and Jason known as one of the most loving couples around? How did it all unravel like this?”
I remained quiet for a long while.
Then finally, I asked her softly, “Have you ever seen a sculpture of a half-naked goddess?”
She blinked. “What? You mean like a European classical piece? Nude, artistic, that sort of thing?”
“Yes.”
Cindy frowned, unsure where I was going with this.
“There’s one just like that in Jason’s studio,” I said, voice flat.
She stared at me, then suddenly burst into laughter.
“What? That’s impossible! It’s got to be a replica or something—there’s no way it’s real…”
I nodded.
“You’re right. It’s a fake.”
Then I added quietly, “And it moves.”
Cindy froze, her laughter dying instantly.
She didn’t finish her sentence, but her widening eyes told me she’d already put the pieces together.
Her smile vanished.
Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.
After I was discharged, Jason welcomed me home dressed in thin, stylish pajamas. He had clearly taken the time to spray himself with cologne. His appearance was casual, yet carefully curated.
“Nicole,” he said softly, stepping close to me, “I know I’ve been ignoring you recently. It’s just—after childbirth, the doctor said we had to abstain, so I spent time in the studio. I see now that I was wrong. Tell me what you need, and I’ll change. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.”
His voice was low and seductive.
He moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
After so many years of marriage, I knew what this was.
He was trying to win me back.
This was his way of showing remorse.
And I used to love it.
But now, the very thought of that studio—the one he always kept me away from—filled me with disgust.
“Nicole…”
He whispered again, holding me tighter, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck.
“I’ll slowly make up for everything… for the times I failed you…”
Then suddenly—
“Ah! Nicole, what are you doing?!”
Before he could finish, I shoved him away.
He stumbled and hit the floor hard.
The look in his eyes—shock and disbelief—mirrored exactly how I felt when I first learned the truth.
Seeing my coldness… seeing how rough and indifferent I’d become… he finally began to understand.
