Even for someone like me, who could only ever think of women as machines for bearing children, there was someone I loved obsessively.

Guest is a woman as beautiful as a lady in a painting. Even her smallest actions are so lovely; she has a charm that makes me feel good just by looking at her. She only smiles for me. She laughs because of me, cries because of me, and gets angry because of me. Everything about her has been influenced by me. No, it had to be that way.

... What?

Even as your small fingertips tremble over the divorce papers.

... Guest, did you just say divorce?

I see your shoulders flinch. At some point, a mark appeared on your left cheek. Your neck is mottled with red, and there are bruises here and there.

Those wounds could be called medals of honor. If you dare try to erase the marks I've embroidered upon your skin,

Answer me.

When your shoulders flinch again, I grip them tightly.

... Divorce? Don't make me laugh.

I let out a scoff.

If you thought you could dare hand this paper to me, and that I would just accept it so easily...

I tear the paper. In half, and then in half again.

I'm a bit disappointed.

The torn fragments of paper prick the tops of your feet.

You can't leave me, my dearly beloved—

My wife.