A Thousand Miles to Find My Husband, All for Nothing

Ten years ago he told me he was going south to start his own company, to build a good future for me and our child.

Ten years passed, and our lives barely improved, but I took it gladly.

Effort doesn't equal success. I knew that better than anyone, and my heart ached for how hard things were for him.

This summer break, I wanted to surprise him. So without telling him first, I set out across the country to find my husband.

Using the address I'd always mailed his hometown specialties to, I tracked down the place he was renting.

I waited until deep into the night, and he still didn't come home. But over the messaging app, he told me he was already back at the rental.

Honey, I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed. Good night.

I gripped my phone and stared hard at the locked door. What had I been guarding these ten years?

I stood in front of that door, took a selfie, sent it to him, and turned off my phone.

I didn't need an explanation. The moment the lie began, the trust had already collapsed.

I only wanted to tell him: I already knew the truth.

This relationship, ten years long, it was time for it to end.

I drifted through this unfamiliar city, bitterness washing over me in waves.

Ten years. I'd trusted him that much.

He'd said he would build a home for me and our child in this city, no matter what.

That he'd buy us an oceanview villa, where I'd see the sea the moment I opened my eyes, where I could lie in bed and watch the sun rise and set over the water.

I'd dreamed of it. I'd waited for it.

Now, thinking back, it was nothing but a joke.

Without realizing it, I'd wandered to the beach he'd told me about, and not far off stood the oceanview villa he'd once promised.

I sat down on the sand, and the tears came before I knew it.

Forget the oceanview villa. Of everything he'd promised, which single thing had ever come true?

My wrists were bare, no famous-brand watch, no jade bracelet like he'd promised.

No gold necklace around my neck either, the one he'd told me about.

Even my clothes came off a street stall. Everything on me was worth less than two hundred dollars.

For ten years, my child and I had scrimped and saved.

Between caring for our child, I earned what I could, saving penny by penny, handing the money to him so he could build his business.

I was afraid he was suffering out there.

Wait was he only telling me the good and hiding the bad?

Maybe he hadn't gone home because he was still working himself to the bone, just didn't want me to know?

I quickly turned my phone back on.

My wife's gotten prettier again. Love you.

That was his reply after I sent the photo.

In that moment, my heart went completely cold.

That selfie had captured the door of his place clear as day, and he hadn't even recognized it.

But deep down I still clung to one last fantasy.

I decided to test it.

The next day, I bought a new phone number, used a voice changer, and called Timothy to tell him a package had arrived.

He told me to leave it at the door and said he'd come get it.

I waited near the apartment building.

Every time I'd sent him a package before, he'd sent me a video of himself opening it.

He would definitely come for this one.

Around ten that morning, a grand sedan pulled up in front of the building.

The moment Timothy stepped out of that car, I froze for a long time.

He went into the building, and not long after, he came back out and tossed the package into the trash bin without breaking stride.

His car sped off and was gone.

Whatever last scrap of illusion I'd been holding on to vanished completely.

I'd just secretly snapped a photo of that car and run it through a search.

A Maybach S680, worth over three point six million.

He'd said he wanted to buy a car, even a used one would do, because this southern coastal city was always raining and getting around on an electric scooter was such a hassle.

I'd gone out to run a market stall at night, saved up a sum of money for him to buy one, and he said he couldn't bring himself to spend it.

I looked at that Maybach in the photo. So this was what he meant by couldn't bring himself to.

The tears fell before I could stop them, and I thought of all those days of wind and rain.

On the bad-weather days, when I was dropping the kids off at school and picking them up, I always thought of Timothy.

I'd think about how hard he had it out there on his own, and back then it never felt like suffering.

Now, looking back, I was just a joke.

For a moment I felt lost, not knowing what to do, not knowing where to go.

Ten years of holding on had turned into a dream and a bubble; ten years of waiting had come to nothing in a single turn.

Go make a scene with him?

Fight over the assets?

What right did I even have?

In the third year of our marriage, he and I filed for divorce.

"Honey, investing has its risks. I'm carrying a lot of debt. I can't drag you and the kids down with me."

"Divorcing and splitting the assets is to protect you and the kids."

"Don't worry. The day I make it big, I'll throw you a grand wedding to make up for it."

And I believed him!

A car horn dragged me back to myself. I hadn't even realized I'd wandered out into the road.

A white Bentley Continental blared its horn like mad, and before I could get out of the way it knocked me to the ground.

"Honey, once I've got money I'll buy you a luxury car. Pick one now, tell me what kind you like."

That was why I, who barely knew any car brands, knew a Bentley, and recognized it as a Continental at a glance.

Because that was the one I'd chosen back then, and he'd said that once he had money he would definitely buy it for me.

I came to my senses and scrambled up. Only my elbow was scraped raw. I looked at the driver and kept apologizing.

The driver got out and stormed toward me, furious.

She swung her hand and slapped me across the face. "Are you blind? You trying to get yourself killed?"

I was about to speak when I noticed the gold bracelet on the woman's right wrist, and one look and I couldn't tear my eyes away.

That gold bracelet was the one my mother had left me before she died, engraved with my initials. There was no mistaking it.

Because of Timothy's startup, I'd handed him that bracelet and told him to pawn it for money.

He'd said that once he had money, he would definitely buy the bracelet back.

My eyes drifted from the gold bracelet to the watch on the woman's wrist.

A platinum Patek Philippe starry-night. Over seven million.

"Baby, look at whatever you want, pick the one you love. Once we have money I'll get you every last thing. For your birthday this year, just choose the watch that'll one day sit on your wrist."

So I knew that watch.

I'd only played along with the choice, the same as with the Bentley, because I didn't want to spoil the mood.

This woman was driving the car I liked, wearing the watch I liked, and on her wrist was the gold bracelet my mother left me.

The Chanel clover necklace at her throat, I knew that too.

That was the wish I'd made on another birthday.

A car could be coincidence. A gold bracelet alone could be coincidence.

But all of it stacked together, that was no coincidence.

He had already built a home in this city.

The world was so big that he'd made his name and I never knew.

The world was so small that the moment I learned he'd made his name, I ran straight into the wife he had now.

"What are you staring at, you hick? You wrecked our car. Pay up."

A little girl climbed out and stood beside the woman, glaring at me.

What the girl was wearing stabbed at my eyes all over again.

Every birthday, Timothy had my daughter make a wish too. Her wishes had come true on some other little girl.

I didn't argue with them. Without thinking, I called Timothy.

Bitterness. Fury.

I needed an explanation now. I needed an answer.

I needed him standing in front of me.

"Baby, what's got you calling me now?"

"The package you sent came. I haven't opened it yet, I'll send you a video when I do."

He was still performing. The tears spilled before I could stop them. "I was in a car accident."

"Is it bad?"

"It's bad. I'm so scared. I'm scared I'll never see you again."

"Baby, don't scare me. I'm buying a ticket back right now." His voice was full of concern.

"Don't buy a ticket. I came to your city. I wanted to surprise you, and I got hit by a car. Come here, quick."

I looked at the buildings nearby and gave him the exact address.

"Wait for me. I'm coming right now."

The second I hung up, the woman took out her phone.

"Honey, I just twisted my ankle at yoga. It hurts so much."

She said only that one line, then hung up.

She looked at me with a high, cold contempt. "I know who you are. So tell me, is he coming here to see you, or coming to the yoga studio to get me?"

Moments later, Timothy called.

"Babe, a client just came up out of nowhere. I've been chasing this one for the better part of a year. If I close this deal, I'm made."

"Babe, I know I should be there with you right now, but I'm not a doctor. Even if I came, there's nothing I could do."

"Babe, I'm so sorry, this deal is just too important. I'll send a colleague over, okay? Don't be scared. The second I'm done with work, I'll come see you."

I said nothing and hung up.

"Looks like he's made his choice."

"My name is Winona Tanner. Timothy Chavez's wife. President of Tanner Group."

Winona dropped a business card at my feet and turned to leave.

"Babe, once the company takes off, we'll call it Fletcher Group."

My name is... Moira Fletcher.

Every promise he made to me and to our child, he'd given to someone else.

Pain stabbed through my elbow, but it couldn't touch the clench in my chest.

More than ten hours on a hard seat, and this was what I'd traveled for. A joke.

I watched the Continental shrink into the distance. If I wanted one, I could buy one.

But I'd wanted Timothy to be the one who made that happen.

Now I didn't.

I checked my balance. Half a year of saving. Thirty thousand.

I'd come to hand it to Timothy in person. Now I could spend it on myself.

I booked the earliest flight. The high altitude he'd never lifted me to, I'd reach on my own.

The southern city kept shrinking beneath my feet, until it vanished.

About two hours later, I walked out of the airport. A man was already waiting.

A few doctors stood with him, and they hurried forward.

I didn't refuse. They tended the wound on my elbow, careful with every move.

The man watched me, ache plain on his face. "I've had people keeping an eye on you the whole time. I know everything that happened over there."

"Moira, I really do know I was wrong. I've already torn up that non-compete. Even if you don't come back to the research lab, you can take a job anywhere you like."

"I don't want to see you living this hard anymore."

Ten years ago, because I'd chosen to be with Timothy, this man had blacklisted me across the industry.

And I'd signed the non-compete anyway, just to stay with Timothy.

The knowledge in my head couldn't be turned into money, but I did it gladly.

"Can I still come back to the research lab?" I asked.

"What?"

He caught up to my meaning and said quickly, "Yes. Of course you can."

"What's the salary?"

"How about ten million? If it's not enough, I'll take it up with the board."

"That's enough."

"Am I worth that much?"

"You haven't worked in the field these ten years, that's true. But I know you never stopped studying. Your work speaks for itself in this industry. You're worth it."

I got into the car he'd arranged, and exhaustion rolled over me. I hadn't let myself relax like this in so long. I fell asleep in the back seat.

I don't know when we reached home. When I opened my eyes, he quickly looked away from me.

"Thank you." I pushed the door open and got out.

He got out after me. "Moira, do I still have a chance to be part of your world?"

"When you liked me, I chose Timothy."

"Just like when I liked him, he chose Winona."

"He's scum, and I'm no better. Jordan Perez..." I looked at him. "Don't wait for me. I'm not worth it."

"You are." He was almost shouting. "You're not like him."

"You turned me down straight, and then chose Timothy. But Timothy kept two women. He betrayed you."

"Moira Fletcher, I love you. I loved you before, I love you now, and I'll love you after."

I didn't know how to face Jordan's fervor, didn't know how to answer him. I went up the stairs in silence.

I'd barely reached the landing when my phone rang.

Timothy. I'd forgotten to block him.

Not too late to do it now.

When his calls wouldn't go through, he started messaging me.

He stared at the red exclamation mark, and the color drained from his face.

My phone had been on for him twenty-four hours a day. No matter when he called, I always picked up on the first try.

Whatever he messaged, I always answered right away.

Rejecting him, blocking him. Both firsts.

"Chairman Chavez, there really was an accident over on Seacloud Avenue. The one who caused it was your wife."

Timothy opened the photos I'd sent him the night before and zoomed in, bit by bit, and his face went whiter and whiter.

In that moment something inside him felt hollowed out.

"Get the car ready. Airport. Book the earliest flight."