Chapter 2My Older Husband and My Younger Husband

He finally settled on a pink button-down shirt—one I had bought for him, which had hung unworn in his closet ever since. I was surprised to find it appealed to his younger self’s aesthetic.

After changing, he made a beeline for the door. I blocked his path. "Where are you going? It's late."

He scowled. "Woman, mind your own business."

"You have an important meeting tomorrow. You need to get some rest." I placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, his face flushing. "What are you doing so close to me?"

I dropped my hand, sighing. "You really can't go." I didn't know how long this would last, but his company couldn't afford any disruptions.

He brushed off his shoulder as if my touch had contaminated him. "You're so annoying! I'm not your husband, why do you get to tell me what to do? I don't care if the company goes bankrupt."

He puffed out his chest. "You have to divorce me! And don't try any tricks. I have someone I like, and she's not a shameless flirt like you."

"I'm sorry, but that's not your decision to make," I said, my face a blank mask, though I could feel a slow burn of anger rising within me. Even a saint would lose their temper after being treated like this. I knew he was just a kid, not the gentle, considerate man I was used to, but still.

That's when he picked up the knife again and held it to his crotch.

"If you don't agree to a divorce, I'll castrate myself! You'll be a widow for the rest of your life!"

I was speechless. Honestly, it wasn't much of a threat.

"Oh," I said with a shrug. "Go ahead."

He gasped, looking at me with disbelief. "You're completely shameless! You'd do anything to be with me."

I really wanted to know what was going on in that teenage brain of his.

He threw the knife down. Just when I thought he'd given up, he bolted for the balcony, hoisted himself up, and sat on the railing.

"What are you doing?"

His body teetered precariously. "If you don't agree to a divorce, I'll jump!" he shrieked.

His self-mutilation, I could ignore. His life, I could not.

I pressed my fingers to my forehead. "Fine," I sighed. "I agree."

Maybe the real Harvey had always hated this marriage. He was always kind to me, but it was a polite, distant kindness. A performance of a husband's duty. The eighteen-year-old could at least voice his own desires. The twenty-eight-year-old couldn't. He would accept things he clearly disliked with a placid smile.

Hearing my agreement, he leaped down from the railing, nearly twisting his ankle.

"I'm going to the internet cafe," he announced triumphantly. "Don't tell my dad."

The door slammed shut behind him. I stood there for a long time before slowly crawling into bed. I had just laid down when his mother called.

"Elara, is Harvey there? I've been calling him, but he's not picking up."

"Uh, he had to step out for something," I lied automatically.

"Your grandmother's birthday is the day after tomorrow. She wants to celebrate at the Ocean Palace. Can you ask Harvey if that's alright?"

"Of course."

We chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up. Harvey's grandmother, despite her age, had always been a trendsetter. The Ocean Palace was an aquarium Harvey had opened for me, a tribute to how we first met. On our blind date, we had no idea what to do, so we went fishing. We spent the entire day without a single bite, returning empty-handed with our buckets and rods. We didn't say a word to each other the entire way back.

After we got together, he opened the aquarium.

So I could fish to my heart's content, he'd said.