“I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough.”
Charles fell silent. For a moment, his expression softened. Then, suddenly, his phone vibrated. A notification appeared, indicating that a new message had come in.
A little hurriedly, Charles grabbed it. Ella hadn’t actually meant to look. But the name on the screen was perfectly clear.
Madison.
Charles opened the message.
Madison: Snowy’s asleep. Thanks for coming over tonight.
Ella stared intently at the screen. Noticing the discomfort in Ella’s gaze, Charles quickly turned off the display. “Don’t start again, Ella.”
Ella took a step back, her face wounded. “I haven’t even said anything.”
“Your eyes said everything.”
“Because I’m hurt.”
Charles slipped his phone into his pocket. “I can’t keep living in a marriage like this.”
Ella looked at him coldly. “What kind of marriage?”
“One that makes me feel guilty every time I help someone else.”
“Madison isn’t just someone else to you.”
Charles said nothing, and Ella immediately caught the silence. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“She’s an old friend.”
“An old friend you always prioritize.”
“Enough.”
Charles picked up his jacket, making Ella’s brow furrow immediately. “You’re leaving again?”
“I need some air.”
“You just got home.”
“I can’t stand fighting like this.”
Ella stood in the middle of the living room. “So you’re leaving again?”
Charles didn’t answer. He picked up his car keys, and that was when something fell from his bag.
Ting!
A small object bounced across the floor. Ella looked down and saw a key—not a car key, but an apartment key. She had just started to reach for it when Charles hurriedly snatched it up.
“What key is that?”
“A spare.”
“Since when have you had one?”
Charles put it back in his bag. “For a long time.”
“You keep it in your bag?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Just in case.”
Ella frowned. “Didn’t we agree to keep our spare key in the drawer?”
Charles fell silent. Ella continued staring at Charles’s bag. “Why are you carrying our apartment’s spare key?”
Charles’s expression went blank. “Because I often come home late.”
“And?”
“And I don’t want to wake you.”
Ella let out a quiet laugh. “That makes sense.” But something still felt wrong.
Charles walked toward the door, and Ella followed him. “Where are you going?”
“Out for a bit.”
“Where?”
Charles turned around, his gaze cold. “See? This is exactly what I mean.”
Ella fell silent. “Even a simple question makes you feel controlled, when I’m only asking.”
“I don’t have to answer every question you ask.”
Charles opened the door while Ella stood several steps behind him. “Charles.”
Charles stopped.
“Happy wedding anniversary.”
Charles didn’t turn around. His hand tightened around the doorknob, and then he said softly as he stepped outside, “Thank you.”
The door closed, leaving Ella standing alone again. Charles’s footsteps echoed as they grew fainter down the hallway, followed by the sound of the elevator doors opening.
Ella walked to the window. From the apartment, she watched Charles leave the building. He stopped on the sidewalk while talking on his phone.
A few seconds later, a car pulled up in front of him. Ella narrowed her eyes. It wasn’t Madison’s car. But when the door opened, Charles got in without hesitation, and the car drove away from the grounds.
Ella remained by the window, her hands slowly curling into fists. Her gaze fell on the dining table: the untouched cake, the food that had gone cold, and one empty chair.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated. It was a message from Leah.
Leah: You two aren’t fighting, are you?
Ella typed.
Ella: I don’t know what to call it.
She stopped, deleted the message, and then typed again.
Ella: He left again.
Sent.
Leah’s reply came almost instantly.
Leah: Do you want me to come back?
Ella stared at the screen, her eyes beginning to burn. But no tears fell.
Ella: It’s not necessary.
She turned off her phone and looked toward the door Charles had just walked through. Ella didn’t feel like chasing after him. She didn’t want to call him, let alone ask her husband to come back.
Ella simply stood there in silence, unaware that the spare key to their apartment was still tucked inside Charles’s bag.
A key she had never seen in three years—a key that might not have been meant merely to make it easier for Charles to come home, but for someone who should never have had access to their home.