That hair-pulling intimacy must mean you're sharing a bed, right?

And today is our sixth wedding anniversary!"

I couldn't hold back and shouted into the phone, "Ariana, you're still my wife, and yet you're in another man's bed! Don't you see the problem here?"

Ariana snapped back, "Marvin and I grew up together. We've been through everything since childhood. So what if we're sharing a bed?"

Then I heard movement on the other end.

It sounded like she was shifting to another location.

Lowering her voice, she continued, "Besides, didn't I tell you? It's a fake divorce. Once I handle the wedding with Marvin, we'll get our marriage license back. We're not even getting a real divorce, so why are you making a fuss?"

After hearing her words, I felt a wave of absurdity wash over me.

About a month ago, when Ariana first told me Marvin had been diagnosed with terminal heart failure, I had felt genuinely sorry for them both.

But then she changed her tone.

"Arthur, Marvin has always wanted to marry me. Can we get the divorce first, and once this is all over, we can remarry? Let's just do it to fulfill Marvin's last wish."

I stared at Ariana in shock. "Ariana, do you think marriage is a joke? If we divorce, I might as well disappear from this world."

Ariana's anger flared up. "Always threatening to disappear—are you trying to blackmail me? Arthur Stewart, can you please get a grip? Marvin's dying, and you can't muster a bit of sympathy?"

Ariana rarely uses my full name, but this time, she was genuinely furious.

Trying to keep my own emotions in check, I asked her, "If you're only having a wedding with Marvin and not actually getting a marriage license, then why are we going through a fake divorce?"

Ariana sighed, her tone softening slightly, "I don't want Marvin to be labeled as a third wheel in our marriage."

Then, her voice hardened again. "Today is Sunday. By Monday, we need to finalize the divorce. Marvin doesn't have much time left."

Before I could say another word, Ariana hung up the phone.

2

The moment the call ended, the skies opened up, unleashing a torrential downpour.

I stared at the wilted roses and the lopsided cake in my hands, unable to suppress a bitter chuckle.

"Guess I'm the one running out of time here."

Ariana had no idea that I was clinging to this strange world for her sake.

Six years ago, I was blind, given a chance to regain my sight.