Chapter 2The Slow Bloom

Ethan dragged me to the door of the guest room and tried to shove me inside. I braced myself against the doorframe. My fingers dug into the wood, my knuckles turning white.

This action required a lot of coordination. My brain had to command my fingers to bend, my arms to use strength, and my feet to stand firm. For me, it was like commanding a disobedient army. It was tiring and slow.

But I did it.

Ethan looked at me in surprise. He probably didn't expect me to resist. All these years, I had never resisted him. I ate what he told me to eat. I wore what he told me to wear. I smiled when he told me to smile.

"June, that's enough. Stop being stupid," he called me by my full name, impatience in his voice.

I looked up and met his eyes. "I am not stupid. I am just slow to react. But I remember."

"March 17th, 11:00 PM. You said you were discussing business. Lipstick stain on your shirt, brownish-red."

"June 9th, 3:00 PM. You said you were on a business trip. Hotel photo. The shadows and the angle of the sun didn't match."

"August..."

"Shut the hell up! What kind of weird habit is this!?" Ethan yanked me into the room and threw me onto the bed. He glared at me fiercely and left, slamming the door shut.

The lock clicked. He had locked it from the outside. The light in the guest room was broken. It was dark, with no color. He probably didn't remember the light was broken, or maybe he didn't remember I was afraid of the dark.

I was scared. Curled up at the head of the bed, I said to the closed door, "Ethan. Divorce."

"Let's get a divorce."