Meeting the Nebula That Belongs to Me

My husband works at the Space Agency, and he only makes it home a few times a year.

My neighbor, Roberta, is married to an astronaut too, and the two of us often get together for drinks.

Last night she waved her phone around, tipsy, and said, Your husband is so sweet. He sent me another Nebula Necklace and said it looked like my eyes.

I'd seen that necklace before, in the picturehe'd told me it was a test sample, locked away at the very bottom of a drawer in his study.

I didn't make a fuss. I even wiped away her tears.

Today he had a rare day off, and when he walked in he carried the unfamiliar scent of gardenias.

Roberta loves gardenias more than anything.

He bent down to change his shoes. "This trip ran long. Thank you for holding down the house."

I leaned against the wall and studied him.

"Percival," I said slowly, "Roberta says you gave her a Nebula Necklace. Funny thingthere's one in our drawer too."

His fingers froze on his shoelaces.

"You said it was a test sample. Locked up for three years."

I gave a small laugh. "Why don't you go over to Roberta's tonight? I'll just melt down my wedding ring and have it made into a chain."

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and Roberta's voice came through, sweet and syrupy. "Percival, that razor you left at my place last time..."

His head snapped up toward me.

I stepped away from the doorway and gave a little "go ahead" gesture.

For the first time, those eyes held a panic I'd never seen in them.

But it was too late.

In the nightstand, the divorce agreement was signed and dated, just waiting for him to come home tonight.

......

The doorbell kept ringing, each ring more urgent than the last.

Roberta's sweet voice carried clearly through the door.

"Percival, are you home? I made some soup. I'll bring you a little."

Percival's face went deathly pale.

His throat bobbed as he tried to explain.

"Aria, listen to me. It's not what you think."

I ignored him.

I walked straight over and pulled the door open.

Outside stood Roberta, holding a thermos, a perfectly gentle smile on her face.

The neckline of her silk nightgown was cut a little low.

When she saw me, her smile froze for an instant.

"Oh, you're here too, Aria."

I stepped aside so she could see Percival behind me.

"Your Percival's right here."

"Come in. You went to the trouble of making soup, don't let it go to waste."

Roberta's eyes darted between the two of us, at a loss.

Percival strode over and tried to pull me behind him.

"Roberta, it's late. Is there something you need?"

There was a faint note in his tone, hard to catch, trying to send her away.

I shook off his hand.

"Don't be like that. Roberta made this soup especially for you."

I turned and called out toward the living room.

"Perfect timingI just took that 'test sample' out of your study drawer."

I walked into the living room and picked up the Nebula Necklace from the coffee table.

Identical.

Exactly the same as the necklace in the photo Roberta showed me last night.

The blood drained from Roberta's face in an instant.

The thermos in her hands hit the floor with a clatter, and the scalding soup splashed out, burning her and making her scream.

Percival instinctively moved to help her up.

I spoke coldly.

"Percival."

He stopped.

I threw the necklace down at his feet.

"You go help her right now, and this marriage is over."

He stood frozen, looking at me, then at Roberta, crouched on the floor with her eyes red from the burn.

Roberta looked up at him, her eyes full of pleading and hurt.

"Percival, my foot..."

I picked up a folder from the sofa, pulled out the papers inside, and slapped them on the coffee table.

"The divorce agreement. I've signed it."

"I don't want any of the property. You can have the car and the houseyou're the one who earns more."

"I have one condition: we file the paperwork tomorrow."

Percival's head snapped around, his eyes locked on those few sheets of paper.

"Aria, do you really have to make a scene like this?"

I laughed.

"I'm the one making a scene?"

"Percival, five years marriedhow many days have you actually spent at home?"

"I made allowances for how special your work is. I was proud of you. I kept this home for you."

"And what did I get?"

I pointed at Roberta, a disheveled mess by the door.

"You kept her instead?"

Roberta finally caught up with what was happening and scrambled up, crying.

"Aria, you've got it wrong! Percival and I aren't like that!"

"He just... he just saw how hard it was for me raising my kid alone, so he looked out for me a little more!"

I looked at her and said each word clearly.

"He looked out for youall the way into bed?"

"He looked out for you by carrying the scent of your favorite gardenias into my home?"

"He looked out for you by handing over a necklace he'd kept locked away for three years?"

Roberta had nothing to say, and her tears fell harder.

Percival closed his eyes, his face full of pain.

"Aria, I'm sorry."

"I lost my head."

"Forgive me this once. I'll cut her off completely, I swear!"

I looked at him and felt how deeply ironic it was.

A space hero. A pillar of the nation.

And right now he was like a child who'd done something wrong, making the most feeble, empty promises.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

"Hello, is this Attorney Sullivan?"

"It's me, Aria."

"That apartment I asked you to findis it still available to rent?"

"Good. I'll move in tonight."

When Percival heard that, he rushed at me, trying to grab my phone.

"Aria! You're moving out? Who are you going to live with?"

His demands were absurd, laughable.

I hung up and looked at him coldly.

"Percival, from the moment you gave that necklace away, you and I stopped having a home."

"And who I live with is none of your business."

I turned and went back to the bedroom, dragging out the suitcase I'd packed long ago.

Roberta seized the chance and limped away.

Only he and I were left in the living room.

A dead silence.

The wheels of the suitcase rolled across the floor with a dull, droning noise.

Percival blocked the doorway like a wall.

"You can't leave."

His voice was hoarse, edged with pleading.

I stopped and looked up at him.

"Get out of the way."

"Aria, let's talk this through."

"I admit I was wrong. Terribly wrong."

"But we can't let five years together be ruined over one mistake."

It felt like the biggest joke I'd ever heard.

One mistake?

That necklace locked away for three years did that count as one?

The gardenia scent I'd smelled on him more times than I could count did that count as one?

The razor Roberta blurted out about did that count as one?

"Percival, you think this was just once?"

He had no answer.

"I"

"I was just too lonely."

"You're stationed at the base. I don't see a soul all year. Do you have any idea how lonely I've been?"

I didn't say it.

I only said, "You're lonely, so that means you get to go find other women?"

"Then can I do the same?"

His expression shifted.

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting!"

"What exactly is going on between you and that Attorney Sullivan?"

I laughed in sheer disbelief.

"Whatever's between me and him, do I need to report it to you, Mr. Dickerson?"

"We'll be divorced soon enough."

He reached out and seized my wrist, gripping it hard.

"As long as we're not divorced, you're my wife every single day!"

His grip made my wrist ache.

I didn't struggle. I just looked at him calmly.

"Percival, do you know something?"

"You look truly ugly right now."

He froze.

I wrenched my hand free, and he stumbled.

"Don't touch me with your dirty hands."

The words went in like a knife, straight into his heart.

The light in his eyes snapped out instantly, replaced by a dead, ashen gray.

I didn't look at him again. I dragged my suitcase around him and opened the door.

The evening breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of osmanthus from the neighborhood.

Not that nauseating gardenia smell.

I took a deep breath and walked out.

No footsteps followed behind me.

Myron's car was parked downstairs.

When he saw me, he got out at once and helped me load the suitcase into the trunk.

"Is it all taken care of?"

he asked.

I nodded.

"Let's go."

As the car pulled out of the community, I saw in the rearview mirror a blurry figure standing at our window.

Perfectly still.

I looked away, leaned back against the seat, and closed my eyes.

The apartment Myron found for me wasn't big a one-bedroom but it was very clean.

He carried my things up, gave me a few quick instructions, and left.

"Call me anytime you need anything."

The door shut, and the whole world went quiet.

I sank into the sofa, feeling like every bit of strength had been drained out of me.

My phone buzzed.

It was a WhatsApp message from my mother-in-law.

"Aria, what's this squabble between you and Percival about? Couples fight at the head of the bed and make up at the foot of it. Don't be so willful."

"Percival works so hard, bringing honor to the country. At home you should be more understanding of him, not make trouble for him."

Looking at those lines, I just felt sick to my stomach.

I didn't reply. I blocked her outright.

Then Percival called.

I hung up.

He called again.

I hung up again.

After several rounds of that, he sent a text.

"Aria, I know I was wrong. Come back. This home can't be without you."

I stared at the word "home" for a long time.

Then I sent back two words.

"Get lost."

Delete, block, all in one smooth motion.

At last the world was completely at peace.

I needed to go back once to pick up some important documents.

I picked a weekday afternoon on purpose, figuring he'd be at work.

But when I unlocked the door, I found him sitting on the living room sofa.

A few days without seeing him, and he looked far more worn down.

Stubble everywhere, heavy dark shadows under his eyes.

The lights were off, and the place felt dim and gloomy.

When he saw me, his eyes brightened, and he shot to his feet.

"Aria, you're back."

I didn't answer and went straight to the study.

He trailed behind me.

"Does this mean you're willing to forgive me?"

"I knew it. I knew you couldn't bear to leave me."

I opened the drawer and took out my household register and a few other documents.

When he saw the household register in my hand, his face darkened again.

"What are you taking that for?"

"To file for divorce."

I put the documents in my bag and turned to leave.

He blocked my path.

"I won't divorce."

"Aria, I don't agree to a divorce!"

I looked at him and felt it was rather pathetic.

"Percival, this isn't up to you."

"You'll sign the agreement whether you sign it or not. If you insist on dragging it into court, you're the only one who'll be humiliated."

"That face of yours, the national space hero do you still want to keep it or not?"

He couldn't get a word out.

His gaze fell on my bare fingers.

"Where's your ring?"

I raised my hand so he could see clearly.

"Took it to be melted down."

He swayed, as if he'd been punched.

"You you're serious?"

"Of course."

I answered calmly.

"The deposit's already paid. I'll have the new chain next week."

With that, I pushed past him and walked out without looking back.

This time, he didn't come after me.

My new life was more peaceful than I'd imagined.

I changed my phone number, and apart from Myron and a few of my closest friends, no one could reach me.

I worked during the day, read and exercised at home in the evenings, and had small get-togethers with friends on weekends.

Life was simple and full.

Now and then I thought of Percival, but there was no longer any ripple in my heart.

It was like a bad cold: while you're sick you feel like you're dying, but once you're better, it's really nothing.

That day, I was working late at the office when a text came in from an unknown number.

"Aria, this is Roberta. I want to apologize to you in person."

I frowned and deleted it right away.

Not long after, another message came from the same number.

"I know you don't want to see me. But there are a few things I have to tell you."

"Percival told me your marriage was just for show, that the two of you had lost all feeling for each other long ago."

"He said you had someone else in your heart, and he just didn't want to expose it, so he kept up a surface peace."

"He said that once this mission was over and he made senior engineer, he'd divorce you."

My hand trembled.

So that was it.

It wasn't a moment of confusion, and it wasn't a drunken slip.

It was a premeditated betrayal, a carefully calculated deception.

He'd even lined up a high-sounding reason for our separation long ago.

He cast me as a fickle, promiscuous woman who had cheated first.

And he was the victim, the one who suffered in silence and put the bigger picture first.

How laughable.

A wave of nausea churned in my stomach.

I rushed into the bathroom and threw up until the world went dark.

My phone rang. It was Myron.

"Still not off work?"

My voice came out choked with tears, without my even noticing.

"Myron"

There were a few seconds of silence on the other end.

"Wait for me at the office. I'll be right there."

Half an hour later, Myron showed up at my office with a bowl of plain porridge and some stomach medicine.

He didn't ask what had happened. He just set the things down on the desk.

"Drink some while it's hot. It'll help."

I looked at him, and the tears fell before I could stop them.

All the strength and the pretense I'd kept up these past few days crumbled under his gentle gaze.

I cried like a child.

He didn't try to talk me out of it. He just stayed quietly with me, handing me a tissue now and then.

Only after I'd cried myself out did he speak.

"Say it if you want to. Don't, if you don't."

"If the sky falls, I've got you."

I shook my head and wiped my eyes.

"It's nothing. I just suddenly realized I used to be such a fool."

He sighed, reached out, and gently ruffled my hair.

The gesture was light, with a soothing strength to it.

"Not a fool."

"Just too kind."

"Aria, I've already handled most of the divorce process for you. The court summons should reach him soon."

"You don't have to worry about anything. Just take care of yourself."

I nodded, and warmth welled up in my chest.

That night, I had a dream.

In it, I was back at the time when Percival and I had just gotten married.

He was just like this then, gently ruffling my hair when I was sick or upset.

Saying, "Don't be afraid. I'm here."

When I woke, a patch of my pillow was wet.

I sat up and looked out at the pitch-black night.

I knew, clearly, that there was no going back.

Some things, once they happen, have simply happened.

Some wounds, even after they scab over, leave ugly scars.

A few days later, I saw Percival on TV.

As an outstanding young representative, he was doing an exclusive interview for the city television station.

On camera he wore a crisp uniform, sharp and spirited, talking with easy confidence.

The host asked him, "Engineer Dickerson, you've achieved so much in the aerospace field. Surely none of it would have been possible without your family's support?"

Percival gave the camera a gentle smile.

"Yes."

"My wife has sacrificed a great deal for me."

"I'm away from home most of the year, and she manages everything at home all on her own."

"She gave me the most stable home base, so I could chase the stars and the sea with no distractions."

"Without her, there would be no me today."

"I'd like to take this chance to say to her: honey, thank you for all your hard work."

He spoke with such heartfelt sincerity that his eyes even reddened slightly.

The studio broke into moved applause.

I was standing under the big electronic screen at the mall, and the people around me were all sighing over it.

"This Engineer Dickerson is such a good manhandsome and devoted."

"His wife is so lucky."

Lucky?

I only found it ironic.

He'd turned our marriage into a backdrop for his perfect image.

In front of a national audience, he'd put on a tender, devoted one-man show.

My phone started buzzing like crazy.

There were my parents' numbers, our mutual friends', and some I didn't recognize.

Without exception, they were all blaming me.

"Aria, what on earth are you doing? Percival went that far and you still won't forgive him?"

"You're being ridiculous. You don't want a husband that good?"

"Just come home. Stop making a spectacle of yourself."

I turned off my phone.

The world went quiet.

But before long, one call stubbornly forced its way through.

It was Percival.

"Aria, did you see the TV?"

"Every word I said came from the heart."

"Come back. Let's start over, okay?"

There was a note of expectation and smugness in his voice.

As if he'd done something remarkable, and I ought to be grateful and come running back to his side.

I took a deep breath and made my voice sound steady.

"Percival."

"You weren't giving an interview. You were performing."

"A disgusting, hypocritical one-man show."

There was silence on the other end.

I went on.

"The divorce hearing is next week."

"After this, don't contact me again."

When I finished, I hung up.

Blocked.

From then on, however far apart, we would never meet again.

The weather was beautiful on the day of the hearing.

I wore a white dress and light makeup.

At the entrance to the courthouse, I saw Percival.

He looked even more haggard than he did on TV, his eyes densely threaded with red.

The moment he saw me, he hurried over.

"Aria."

I didn't stop. I walked straight in.

He caught up and grabbed my arm.

"Can we talk one more time?"

"Just once."

I shook him off.

"Whatever needs to be said, we'll say it in court."

His hand froze in midair, his face full of frustration and helplessness.

The proceedings went quickly.

Because the evidence of his affair during the marriage was conclusive, and given his status as a public figure, the judge granted our divorce on the spot to keep the fallout from spreading.

The property was divided according to what I'd written in the agreement: I walked away with nothing.

When I stepped out of the courthouse, the sunlight was blinding.

I squinted, and my whole body felt lighter.

Like a heavy burden I'd carried for years had finally been set down.

Myron's car was parked not far away.

He was leaning against the door, and when he saw me, he smiled at me.

Percival saw him too.

He rushed over and blocked my path.

"So it's because of him?"

"Aria, have you been with him all along?"

His accusation was full of bitterness and anger.

I looked at him and suddenly felt very calm.

"So what if I have? So what if I haven't?"

"Percival, there's nothing between us anymore."

I stepped around him and walked toward Myron.

He watched me get into Myron's car, watched the car pull away and disappear.

In the rearview mirror I saw him standing there, like a lonely statue.

After a long moment, he raised his hand and slammed his fist hard against the wall beside him.

Blood trickled down between his fingers.

Myron glanced at the rearview mirror.

"Where to?"

"The jewelry store," I said.

The wedding ring I'd melted down had been made into a minimalist platinum necklace.

The pendant was a small, round silver bead.

I put it on, and the cool of it settled against my collarbone.

It didn't belong to anyone. It belonged only to me.

This was a new beginning.

My relationship with Myron warmed slowly, in an unspoken understanding.

He never named it out loud; he was just always there when I needed him.

He'd remember when my period was coming and have hot ginger tea ready in advance.

He'd figure out which restaurant's dessert I loved, then quietly box one up and drop it off at my office.

When I worked late into the night, he'd drive over and wait downstairs, just to take me home.

That quiet, unassuming tenderness slowly filled the hollow Percival had left in my heart.

I started looking forward to his calls, looking forward to seeing him.

It was a completely different feeling from being with Percival.

With Percival, it was looking up.

I looked up at the halo over his head, up at the stars and the sea he talked about.

And I was only a speck of dust beneath that halo.

With Myron, it was looking across.

We stood on the same ground, breathed the same air, took in the same view.

He made me feel that I was loved, that I was cherished.

That day, we'd planned to go to a movie together.

It was very late by the time it let out.

He walked me to my apartment building.

"Go on up, get some rest."

I nodded and unbuckled my seatbelt.

"Myron."

The word came out of me suddenly.

He turned to look at me.

"Hm?"

"Do you... like me?"

I asked it straight out.

He paused, then smiled.

"Is it that obvious?"

My heart skipped a beat.

He leaned in, his warm breath brushing my cheek.

"Yes."

"From the first time I saw you, I liked you."

"But I knew you weren't ready then."

"Aria, I'm willing to wait."

"For whenever you're ready to take a step toward me."

My heart was wrapped in an enormous tenderness.

I looked into his eyes, and there was no desire in them, only sincerity and care.

I leaned over and lightly kissed his lips.

A touch, then apart.

"I've taken my step."

"The other ninety-nine are yours."

He froze, and then joy flooded his face.

He cupped the back of my head and deepened the kiss.

Nothing like Percival's dominance and possessiveness.

His kiss was gentle, lingering, carrying the tenderness of something lost and found again.