Ariana seemed to forget that I'd previously complimented how lovely she looked in white lace—and how black lace wasn't really her style.
Besides, I had also made it clear that I didn't like that tacky style.
If she had genuinely bought it for me, why in the world would she choose something I didn't even like?
Her justifications felt like a flimsy veil over a truth she didn't want to confront.
Deep down, even she had to realize how absurd this all was.
I suddenly felt a tightness in my chest, unsure if it was the painkillers kicking in.
If only painkillers could heal a broken heart.
I couldn't help but wonder when exactly Ariana had started to drift away.
What had caused her change of heart?
Why was she the one who had made those vows, yet it was her who broke them first?
What had I done to deserve all of this?
Seeing my pale face, Ariana rushed over to support me.
"Arthur, what's wrong? It's really not what you think. Don't get lost in your own thoughts.
"Marvin and I are just good friends, nothing more," Ariana insisted.
4
I thought, "Marvin? Good friends?
Who gets married to their "good friend"?
Who kisses their "good friend" in a car?"
Not long ago, when I refused to agree to the divorce, Ariana had stormed off in a huff.
Worried about her, I checked her dashcam footage through an app on my phone.
What I saw shattered me. Ariana and Marvin were locked in a passionate kiss, lost in their own world.
They kissed for what felt like an eternity before she finally dropped him off at the hospital, reminding him to get some rest.
Maybe they had been involved long before Marvin's heart failure.
Otherwise, why would Ariana have grown increasingly distant after coming home?
She thought I was oblivious, but now, in this moment, she was still trying to cover her tracks.
Did she really believe her actions were seamless?
No matter how much I loved her, I could no longer trust her like before.
As Ariana frantically tried to explain herself, I pushed her hand away in disgust.
"Aren't we getting a divorce? Let's go; we don't want to keep anyone waiting."
Ariana hesitated, searching my eyes for something—anything—before her gaze fell flat, meeting only the emptiness within me.
On our way to the courthouse, I gazed out the window at the rapidly passing streets, nostalgia washing over me.
I remembered taking this same route with Ariana when we went to get our marriage license.