The Seven-Year Itch

Summary

By the seventh year of our marriage, Ethan seemed to have grown weary of me. His phone password had changed. He no longer shared the small details of his day.

【I’m swamped, feet barely touching the ground. No time for trivial chatter.】

Yet, later, in class, the young student he was sponsoring wept as she poured out her grievances to him.

【Just because I missed a few classes, the teacher wants to dock my participation grade.】

Without a word, he hired someone to vandalize my cubicle. When I returned to my office, I found utter chaos, shattered glass, and papers strewn across the floor.