Seven Days in the Cold

On the seventh day after being kidnapped, I was finally rescued. When I got home, I saw Brandon and his little assistant making a homemade cake together, completely wrapped up in each other. I thought he actually remembered our seventh wedding anniversary. Then I stepped closer. Piped onto the frosting were the assistant's name and the words "Happy 19th Birthday". Brandon instinctively shielded Chloe behind him and looked at me with open suspicion. "What? The fake kidnapping stunt didn't work, so now you're trying a new routine?" A bitter smile touched my lips. I honestly didn't know what to say. I was the one who threw myself in front of him. I took the hit to save Brandon, and I endured seven days of sheer hell for it. And he thought I was just throwing a tantrum. In the past, I would have lost my mind. I would have thrown Chloe out onto the street and screamed at Brandon, asking him if he even had a heart. Now? I just walked away in silence to clean the crusted blood and open wounds all over my body. When I stepped out of the bathroom, Brandon was cleaning up the mess from the cake and wiping away every trace Chloe had left behind. Seeing me approach, he reached up and cupped my face. He clipped a delicate silver hairpin into my bangs. "Stop acting out. You're not twenty anymore. Why can't you be sensible like Chloe for once?" He was trying to make peace, but his tone carried that same old, dismissive impatience. "While you were busy hiring actors to stage a scene, Chloe landed me a massive contract. Baking a cake with her was just a reward for her birthday..." "Oh." My voice was flat. Brandon stopped mid-excuse. He stared at me, thoroughly confused. "You're not going to yell?" Normally, I would have. Every time Chloe posted suggestive photos of them together on Ins, I would show up like a frantic madwoman, making a complete scene. It always ended the same way: I cried myself sick at home, while Brandon avoided me for days in total disgust. Then he'd toss me some random apology gift, and I would pathetically cling to him like a lifeline, desperate to hold on. "She's a young girl having a birthday. It makes sense to look out for her." I tossed the line out like a polite stranger. I opened the media console, rummaging around for my painkillers. I remembered having an entire box stashed here. Ever since my miscarriage, I suffered from severe chronic pelvic pain that flared up enough to make me wish I was dead. "Where are my pills?" I looked over at Brandon. He turned his head away, a brief flash of panic crossing his features. "They probably ran out. Don't panic, I'll go pick some up right now." Chloe's latest Ins post instantly flashed through my mind. The photo was set in a luxury boutique. She was holding a box of tampons and an exquisite gift box, smiling sweetly for the camera. Her caption had burned right into my eyes: "Big thanks to the sweet guy who not only remembers my birthday, but even keeps track of that time of the month." Meanwhile, Brandon didn't even remember the day we got married. "Don't bother. I'll get them myself." I stopped him before he could rush out the door, throwing a light jacket over my shoulders. I needed to pick up some antibiotics for my cuts, too. Whatever crossed his mind made Brandon snap. He suddenly grabbed my arm. "Who are you giving that attitude to? Do you really have to push my absolute last button before you're satisfied?" It took me a solid moment to realize what he meant. He thought my calm detachment was just me giving him the cold shoulder. I looked at him, completely baffled. "Haven't you always said I'm crazy? Isn't it better if I'm quiet?" I hadn't always been crazy. Before the miscarriage, Brandon was wonderful to me. During the loss, though, severe hemorrhaging did permanent damage. I was told I could never carry a child again. After that, anxiety and paranoia completely consumed me. Instead of standing by me, Brandon started pulling away. He began keeping other women close, which only drove my mental state off a cliff. I couldn't even tell you who knocked down the first domino anymore. All I knew was that every shred of love I ever had for him had collapsed into ash. Nothing was left. "I won't lose control of my emotions anymore. I won't embarrass you ever again." I leaned down to slip on my sneakers. Suddenly, Brandon wrapped his arms around me from behind. He pressed his chest firmly against my back. Right against my raw, open cuts, I could feel his heavy, ragged breathing. "Come on, please. Let's not fight. What if something happens to you wandering out in the middle of the night? We already lost our baby... You have to stay safe." "Just wait here for me, okay? I'll get your medicine." I didn't answer him. I remained frozen half-bent over, clenching my teeth so hard my jaw shook. His weight pressing against my injuries hurt so bad I could barely pull air into my lungs. Then Brandon's ringtone pierced the air. Chloe's soft, whimpering voice drifted through the speaker: "Brandon, a bunch of giant roaches just crawled out from under my bed... I'm so scared..." Brandon ended the call, and his hands moved double-time to lace up his boots. He didn't spare me a single glance. He only remembered I was there right as he pushed the front door open. "The pharmacy down the block might be closed. I might be a little late coming back—" Mid-sentence, he caught sight of me and froze in horror. "What is wrong with you? It's just your usual flare-up, why are you sweating like that?" I couldn't hold myself up any longer. Several of my deep gashes had ripped open again. I dragged my words out, practically begging him. "Please take me to the ER. The injuries the kidnappers left are way worse than I thought." "Kidnappers?" Brandon let out a cold, mocking scoff. "Serena, really? You're still using that pathetic excuse to test my patience?" He slammed the door behind him and didn't come back all night. I passed out cold from the sheer agony. When I finally came to, it was the dead of dawn. Gritting my teeth, dragging myself like a bleeding snail, I crawled inch by agonizing inch out to the curb. I hailed a cab and took myself to the emergency room. The next afternoon, he called to demand why I wasn't at home. I knew the drill. He was hungover again, his stomach was burning, and he wanted me to make him a warm bowl of soup.The moment I unlocked the front door, the scent of burnt food hit my nose. Brandon was clutching his stomach, running out of the kitchen the second he heard me. "Serena, your soup is the only thing that works. I tried making it myself, but it's completely off." He was fishing for me to step into the kitchen and take over. I took a wide step around him and brushed past him coolly. "I'm exhausted. Order takeout." Over our seven years of marriage, no matter how furious I got, I always worried about him. He had a terrible stomach, and though I used to never step foot in a kitchen, I spent years mastering home-cooked recipes. The only reason I did it was to get him to stay home with me a little longer. He clearly never expected me to stop caring about his health. He grabbed a luxury skincare gift set off the dining table and cornered me by the television. "You're always complaining about dull skin. Here, this is for you." I raised my eyes, my expression utterly blank. Brandon held the box out like he was bestowing an enormous favor on a peasant. "Go on, take it. This set costs more than your entire vanity." I took the box. Then, right in front of him, I slid open the media drawer. The space where my painkillers belonged was still completely empty. "Brandon, do you honestly have no idea what I actually need?" Without another word, I dropped the luxury skincare set straight into the trash can. Chloe had posted the exact same luxury brand on Ins earlier. Her set was designed for youthful hydration and plumping. Mine was targeted strictly for deep wrinkles and severe anti-aging. I knew I wasn't young and radiant anymore. That didn't mean I was pathetic enough to throw away my remaining dignity. "Enough, Serena! Fine, I admit it! I went over to Chloe's place last night, but I left the second I caught the bugs!" His patience evaporated, and he barked the words right into my face. "You're a grown woman. Are you seriously going to pout and hold a grudge over something this ridiculous?" "Brandon, I'm not angry. I've never been clearer in my entire life." He didn't believe a word. He accused me of playing games, of using the silent treatment to manipulate him. He sneered that I was so sick with jealousy over Chloe that I was acting like a bitter, menopausal shrew. It wasn't the first time I had swallowed those vile insults. In the past, hearing those words would reduce me to hysterical tears. I had been terrified of him looking down on me, terrified of him abandoning me. No matter how deep the cut went, I would swallow my pride and crawl back to apologize. Right now, I only felt like laughing. "If that's how you feel, let's just get a divorce. That way, you're free to pursue Chloe's youth and beauty." I had planned to wait until the police closed the kidnapping case before bringing up the paperwork. But I didn't have the stomach to wait another single second. Brandon stood frozen for a long time before his brain caught up. "Serena, stop saying crazy things you don't mean." His voice dropped into a coaxing whisper, and he stepped in to hug me. I instinctively backed away. Right then, my phone rang. It was the police detective on my case. "Mrs. Serena Miller? We've successfully apprehended every suspect involved in your abduction. If you're up to it, could you come down to the station for a lineup?" As I hung up, the tension on Brandon's face relaxed into a look of absolute, sneering disdain. "Serena, don't you feel cheap doing this? If you actually went through with a divorce, maybe I'd have an ounce of respect for you." "First you fake a kidnapping, now you threaten divorce. Do you honestly take me for an idiot who can't see right through your games?" I gave him one flat look, turned around, and walked into the bedroom to change. He sat back down on the sofa with a smirk. He was utterly convinced that just like every other time, I would sit on the stairwell crying for an hour before meekly walking back through the door. He had no idea. This time, I was actually going to the police precinct. "So, to clarify the timeline: the kidnappers initially targeted your husband. You noticed them lying in wait, rushed forward to warn him, but the suspects intercepted you and shoved you into their van instead?" I nodded. The officer's face darkened with righteous anger. "And your husband witnessed you being dragged into that van, but he assumed you were staging a scene and never bothered to dial 911?" I nodded again. I had been so unhinged in the past, pulling so many reckless stunts just to keep Brandon from walking away. Never again. Not ever again. "You two started dating back during our sophomore year of college, right? I remember you guys being so in love..." Julian asked the question carefully, keeping his eyes on my face to gauge my reaction. I smiled, completely unbothered. "People change! Ask whatever you need for your story, Julian. Don't hold back." Julian was an old college classmate of mine who went into investigative journalism after graduation. With my consent, he was writing an exposé on the kidnapping ring. I was fine with it. The consulting fee from the publication would give me a solid financial cushion once the divorce was finalized. "There are just a few small details left. For instance, when you ran over to warn Brandon, he was standing inside a pet boutique buying a kitten?" Julian tapped his pen against the desk. "I clearly remember you being severely allergic to cat dander. There's no way Brandon didn't know that, right?" He obviously wasn't buying that cat for me. Still, a small question nagged at me. "He probably forgot about my allergy years ago. How do you still remember it so clearly?" Julian gave a slightly sheepish smile and smoothly changed the subject. By the time I walked back through my front door, it was already one in the morning. Brandon sat on the living room sofa under the dim lights, his face dark as a storm cloud. I kicked off my sneakers and headed straight for the hallway bathroom. He cut me off, seething with anger. "Why are you getting home this late?" "Things came up. I was busy." The moment the words left my lips, silence descended upon the room. In the past, I was the one who sat up waiting until dawn. He was the one stumbling in late, tossing out lazy excuses. "I'm sorry, Serena..." Brandon's gaze turned earnest, pleading. "From now on, whenever I'm running late, I promise I'll call and tell you exactly where I am, okay?" He looked at me with absolute sincerity. I had lived that exact agonizing routine for seven whole years. He had endured it for a single day, and he was already falling apart. I opened my mouth to tell him not to bother, but the air caught in my throat. Between his fingers, I noticed several fine strands of orange cat fur. And five hours ago, Chloe had posted a picture of herself carrying a new orange tabby on Ins. My heart seized with utter disgust. I shoved him away with all my strength. This divorce couldn't wait another single day.Julian hooked me up with a reputable divorce attorney. Our consultation took place at a coffee shop right down the block from Brandon's office building. Once we had drafted the preliminary asset division, Julian offered to walk up to Brandon's office with me. I agreed. My body was still covered in unhealed wounds. If Brandon lost his temper and got physical, I'd be at a serious disadvantage alone. When we stepped onto the executive floor, Brandon was sitting in the reception lounge waiting on a corporate client. Chloe was leaning down beside him, her mouth hovering centimeters from his earlobe, whispering something with a playful, teasing smile. The sight triggered an instant, sickening wave of déjà vu. That was the exact scene I walked in on the very first time I met Chloe. Brandon's ears were notoriously sensitive. They had flushed bright crimson, yet he hadn't pulled away from her. Back then, I lost my mind. I charged across the lobby and tried to drag Chloe out by her hair. The girl had burst into theatrical tears. Brandon had swung his hand and slapped me hard across the face to pull her behind him. "Serena, what kind of psychotic fit are you throwing at my workplace?" I had clutched my burning cheek, standing there in sheer disbelief for an eternity. "Brandon, you hit me? You put your hands on me for another woman?" "I knew you always skip lunch, so I spent hours making hot soup and brought it all the way here for you! And what do you do? You flirt with someone else at work, and then you strike me?" "Flirting? We were discussing business!" Furious, Brandon had snatched the thermos from my hands and smashed it onto the polished floor. The violent crash brought the entire department rushing out of their cubicles. Brandon pointed an accusatory finger at my face. "Can you do anything besides humiliate me? Get the hell out! Don't you dare step foot in this company again without my permission!" His security team dragged me out of the building like a criminal. The very next morning, the entire staff was whispering behind my back, labeling me the boss's crazy, unhinged wife. When he came home that night, he handed me a generic luxury gift and explained that he had zero feelings for Chloe. He claimed he only kicked me out to maintain his authority as CEO. Yet I remembered our early days with crystal clarity. Back when Brandon and I first started dating, I noticed a stray strand of hair by his temple. I reached out to tuck it away and accidentally brushed against his ear. His entire face had flushed crimson red. He pulled me tight into his arms, his breath coming in ragged gasps against my neck. He whispered: "My ears belong to you. No one else is ever allowed to touch them." Every sweet promise from the past flickered through my mind, then shattered into jagged, worthless pieces. "Serena? What are you doing here?" Seeing me standing there, Brandon shot up from his chair. The flush on his neck drained instantly, leaving him ghost-pale. Chloe ducked behind Brandon's broad back, her fingers clutching the hem of his suit jacket as she spoke in a timid, fragile voice. "Serena probably forgot that you banned her from the office... But she is your wife, Brandon. Please don't start another fight with her on my account." Brandon gently patted Chloe's wrist in a soothing gesture, his brows furrowing into a stern frown. "Serena, whatever this is, let's talk outside." "We can talk right here." I unzipped my tote bag and pulled out the divorce papers. "Can you stop embarrassing yourself for once? Chloe was just briefing me on a client's confidential file. She couldn't let anyone overhear, which is why she—" "I don't care. Honestly, you two look great together. It's totally fine if you want to be together." As the words left my lips, the divorce decree landed squarely on the glass coffee table in front of him. Surrounded by the wide, stunned eyes of his entire staff, I slid the papers right to his fingertips. "If the terms look fine, sign it." It wasn't just Brandon; every employee within earshot stared in slack-jawed shock. None of them could comprehend how I—the pathetic, unhinged wife who had thrown away all her self-respect just to hold onto Brandon—could possibly be the one serving him divorce papers. "You're crossing a line, Serena. Everyone is watching!" Brandon's face twisted into an awkward, forced smile. "Plenty of founding partners are right over there. Drop this nonsense so we don't both look ridiculous." I didn't blink. "If the terms look fine, sign it." The cold certainty in my eyes finally cracked through his arrogance. He realized that this time, I wasn't bluffing.