Taeho:

  I catch the blush that creeps over her cheeks at the compliment I sent her way before turning into her language building to drop her off.

  As soon as she’s out of the car, a male student bumps into her hard and her books tumble to the floor. I’m worried she might be hurt, so I hurry out of my side of the car to help her.

  The kid looks shady to me, and when he asks if he can help her, I’m suddenly filled with an emotion that I thought I’d long since lost: jealousy. He’s not fucking touching her. So, I take her arm before putting the guy in his place.

  “Did you just push my wife?”

  He loses his cocky smirk instantly.

  “My apologies.” He bows.

  I turn my back on him and lead Anya off to her building.

  Once we get closer to the entry, she pulls away abruptly.

  “You know I have legs right,” she hisses.

  “What?” I’m too flustered to process what she’s saying, but she turns to face me.

  “I have legs,” she repeats louder. “I can walk to class by myself you know.”

  “Oh… right. Sorry. I just thought—”

  “You thought what? That he was going to mug me? This is a college, not a ghetto. I can take care of myself.” She says with assertiveness.

  “I know, I was just—”

  “You know, I can’t work you out. Am I your wife or a house guest? Because I’m starting to feel uncomfortable as both,” she snaps before stalking away.

  Oh shit. She caught that?

  She leaves me standing in front of the college, speechless. I really have no excuse for acting the way I did. Why did I say she was my wife—again?

  I run my hand through my hair, exasperated with myself.

  Seriously, Tae. What’s wrong with you?

  ***

  “Why do I have the feeling you’re avoiding me?” Eliza’s voice pierces through the speaker phone.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  It’s late evening, and I thought it might be time to check-in on my fiancée. After yesterday’s phone call I’d hoped to find her in a better mood, but I get the feeling from her tone that’s unlikely.

  “What do you mean?” I ask while sitting on the edge of my bed in the dim light coming through from the kitchen, my studio being unlit.

  “Did your mom tell you I had to call your parents’ house to see if you’d got home safely? Why wasn’t your phone on? Was it because you were having a cozy dinner with some woman at your house—don’t bother denying it, your mom told me. Who is she?”

  She’s angry and I haven’t got a valid come back. I can sense her jealousy miles away and it reminds me what an unattractive trait it is. Now I get what Anya saw in me earlier. But this version of Eliza…? She was like this in college when we first dated, but it’s been showing up more often lately.

  “Mom saw me with a woman?”

  My mother wasn’t here when I got home last night so how would she know I had dinner with Anya?

  “Don’t play dumb. Why were you having dinner with her? Who is she?”

  “Eliza, if mom saw me at all then she only saw me at home having supper, if she saw a woman too, then she’s just a guest. My mom’s listed the place on a vacation-home website—”

  “Bullshit!” she erupts. Her anger startles me.

  What the fuck is going on with her?

  “It’s not bullshit, love, I’m serious. Mom must have needed a project and she decided making some extra cash from the house was a good idea, especially since I’m never here.”

  “You’re there now. And probably to see her.”

  “See who?”

  Now I’m getting genuinely confused. Who does Eliza think I’m seeing? I didn’t meet Anya until my flight yesterday, so it’s not like I’ve planned this whole trip around her.

  “Stop being an asshole, Tae, and just tell me the truth. Ever since I set the date for our wedding, you’ve been avoiding me. Now I’m starting to realize why. Are you having an affair?”

  I’m dumbfounded by the accusations she’s throwing at me. An affair? I have no idea where this is coming from. It has never crossed my mind to ever cheat on Eliza—not once in the ten years we’ve been together. Does she really think I’d do that to her? I’m not purposely trying to avoid her, and certainly not to hide something like an affair.

  “Wait. Whoa, whoa, whoa. What? What are you going on about, Elie?”

  “Fuck you, Tae. I can’t do this right now,” she says before abruptly hanging up.

  All I hear is blank air as I sit here at my desk in the dim light, completely baffled. I look at my phone to see if she’s actually dropped the call and she has. Nausea sweeps over me at the anger in Eliza’s voice, and I’m struggling to make out what just happened. Seriously. What the hell just happened?

  I’d had coffee with an old friend and hadn’t bothered to come home to check my phone. I’d forgotten to recharge it overnight and by morning it was dead. Who needs a phone alarm when you have a mom waking you at the crack of dawn, right? I took Anya to school, went about my day from there, and didn’t even think about my phone until I got back. I hadn’t thought I needed to check in with Eliza either until I got back and saw the dozens of texts and missed calls. I had called her immediately, but her interrogation completely blindsided me.

  I call her back three times after she hangs up, but she doesn’t pick up. I even leave her a desperate voicemail begging her to call me back—she doesn’t. And I couldn’t be more frustrated.

  “Fuck!” I yell, throwing my phone at the wall, leaving a small dent in the plaster. My confusion turns to rage as I’m beyond pissed. I can’t get a handle on what’s going on and it’s driving me mad.

  In the lull after my yell, I hear someone gasp from somewhere beyond the sectional doorway separating my quarters from the kitchen. I turn and see a shadow slip out of sight.

  I run my hand though my hair and sigh.

  Fuck.

  How long has Anya been home? And what worries me more: did she hear the whole conversation?

  ?Sky Mincharo