The Comments Said My Husband Hated Me

"My hands are sore tonight. Can I… use my mouth instead?" The same second my husband got that out, ears burning, a line of text floated across the ceiling.

Only I could see it. [He's a strictlyplatonic type. Soulmate or nothing. He showers for half an hour after she touches him.] The words had more to say.

When the female lead shows up, he divorces me the day his company goes public. I cling anyway. Thirty thousand comments call me crazy.

I walk away with nothing and die alone in a oneroom walkup, and nobody finds me for days. I sat there in lace and could not decide whether to jump him.

Nobody else could see those words. They stacked up over his head, one covering the last, like subtitles somebody had already burned into the rest of my life.

My husband was still red to the ears, waiting for an answer. My hand stopped in the air. Chapter 1 "Forget it.

Go wash up and go to bed." I dragged the blanket over myself and turned my back to him. Adrian's hand stopped halfway down his shirt buttons.

He must have chalked it up to the late hour. He sat on the edge of the bed and touched my shoulder. "Was it too late? I'll come home earlier." I said nothing. He leaned in.

His ears were red enough to bleed. "Or you could… sit on my face. That works too." I'll admit it. There was a beat where I almost caved.

Then I looked up, and the comments came through again. [This man is a whole moonlit poem and she's out here ruining him.] [He signed a prenup that leaves him with nothing just to live in her house.

What's he supposed to do.] [Right, and if her family hadn't leaned on him to sign it, would he have lowered himself to move into her place?] [He was winning awards in Paris while she was out buying purses.] [First thing he does when the company goes public is file for divorce.

She won't see a dime.] [Roadshow already started. Won't be long now.] [And she still won't quit after. Whole internet calls her insane. Dies in a oneroom walkup.

Nobody finds her for days.] "I'm really not in the mood. Get some sleep." Adrian sat there a while. Any other night I'd have been on him like a starving animal.

Tonight I was flat calm. I couldn't be bothered to look at him. It took him a long time to say "oh." Then he got up and went to shower.

I found my phone and texted my friend the doctor. [I'm seeing words in the air. They're insulting me.] She wrote back in a second. [Could be mushroom poisoning.

Get seen.] Me: [We ate the mushroom hot pot last week.] She didn't write back for a bit. [I'm in clinic Monday. I'm putting a psych referral through. Go.] I put the phone down.

The words were still on the ceiling. Out of them I pieced together a whole story. I'm the villainess in some cleanromance serial. My husband is the strictlyplatonic type.

He belongs with the female lead, one of those cardcarrying romantics. And I end badly. …It's a women'sfiction app and they still couldn't give the female lead a virgin?

What a world. I sighed. One comment pinned itself in front of me, flagged in red. [When he was little he walked in on his dad and his aunt at his mother's wake.

Man's been scared of sex ever since.] [The villainess forces herself on him constantly and he's too scared to say anything.

Sees a therapist about it in secret.] [How else do you think he met the female lead? She IS his therapist.] I stared at the words. My head buzzed. …Does sex hurt him?

Before he signed that prenup and moved in, Adrian had told me straight out that he wasn't much good in that department and I shouldn't expect a lot. We tried once that first night.

I lay on top of him and worked at it a long time. Coaxed him. Coaxed him again. He finally shut his eyes and said, hoarse, "Sorry.

I… can't." For a solid thirty seconds I just sat there. Such a waste. A face like that, and it's decoration? But he was so beautiful.

Back then I believed the "can't." Now I know better. The words spelled it out. He can. He's just afraid. Chapter 2 He really was beautiful.

Skin pale enough to see the veins through, rims of his eyes a little red, lashes wet, the whole picture sweet and wronged. I looked a while longer and made my peace with it.

A vase that pretty would be wasted anywhere but my house. The next day I booked him with a men'shealth specialist and ordered a dozen supplements that swore they worked.

He took every one of them. Still nothing. Eventually I quit. Hardware fails, you use software. His hands were clever. His mouth worked fine.

He never turned down anything I asked for. He just wasn't into it. At first I blamed his body. Then I noticed the other thing. Every single time, he got me there.

He stayed somewhere else. Afterward he'd be in the bathroom a long time. I asked once. He said he was washing up. I let it go. Nobody's perfect.

With a face like that, was I expecting fireworks too? Then tonight, the comments. All those years, he'd been swallowing his disgust and servicing me anyway.

The bathroom door opened a crack. Adrian's voice came through the steam. "…I forgot my pajamas. Could you hand them in?" I stopped. There are towels in there.

Since when was he this particular. I rolled out of bed and grabbed a silk robe. The gap in the door widened. No towel. He stood in the steam with nothing on.

Wet hair stuck to his temples. His skin had steamed to a faint pink. That waist was unfair. Water ran down the line of it. My eyelid twitched.

My eyes dropped two inches and I hauled them back up. "Robe." I pushed it through the gap. He took it. He didn't close the door. Steam rolled out past him.

Half of him stood in the light. "…Thanks, baby," he said, low. His throat moved. The corners of his eyes were flushed.

He looked at me like there was something he wanted to say and wasn't going to. That look was new. My pulse tripped. A comment drifted by overhead. [He's terrified.

He thinks she's about to force it.] [Then why'd he ask her to bring the robe?] [Walking out bare would be worse, she'd eat him alive. Towels fall off.

A robe has a belt.] Me: "…" Adrian waited a few seconds. What he got was: "Dry your hair before you come out." He didn't seem to believe it. He looked down at himself.

He waited some more. Nothing else came. Then his lashes dropped, and he shut the door, quietly. [THAT FACE. The disbelief on him.

I'm deceased.] [dodgedabullet.jpg] I lay back down. Ten minutes later he came out. He brought the damp air with him and lifted the covers carefully to get in.

Rose body wash came off him, very faint. Same as mine. I kept my back to him and played asleep. Something very small happened behind me. [He's laughing.

He turned away so she wouldn't catch it.] [The silent glee is killing me.] I didn't turn around. The mattress shifted. He'd rolled toward me.

A long time after that, barely a sound: "…Baby?" No answer from me. The blanket tugged a little. He tucked the gap closed along my back.

The next morning I got up and washed, and Adrian was at the door with his bag, putting his shoes on.

Oatmeal and a couple of sides were on the table, and a plate of peeled softboiled eggs. "You're up." His eyes crinkled. "I cooled it down for you." I made a noise back. [He's up early cooking a whole spread every day so she won't climb on him at night.] [payingforpeace.jpg] I looked at that plate of peeled eggs.

The shells had come off clean. Not one bit of the white torn away. How long does a plate like that take? Chapter 3 He finished with his shoes and stopped at the door.

He looked down, straightened his cuff, and looked back up at me. [What's he waiting for? Man's going to be late.] [Waiting for her to release him.

She used to hang off him and kiss him forever before he could leave.] [Forced to kiss her every single morning like clocking in.

He's got to be sick of it.] I sat at the table with the spoon in my hand and didn't move. Adrian stood there a moment, then came back.

He bent down a little and turned his cheek toward me. He was asking for the goodmorning kiss. I tilted my head away. His lips brushed my cheek and landed on nothing.

Adrian's lashes flickered. Like it hadn't caught up with him yet. He straightened. His voice came out lighter than before. "…I'm going, then." The door shut.

The spoon cracked against the rim of the bowl. He must hate being touched by me. All these years it's been me forcing him. The goodmorning kiss was a punch card.

Bedtime was an assignment. I got out of the way and he was relieved. [WAIT did the villainess get a personality transplant??

She DODGED?] [His face though… that didn't look like relief to me?] [Obviously.

You get used like a dog for years, then one day nobody uses you, and you start wondering if you're about to be put down.] I looked at the oatmeal in the bowl and my stomach pulled tight.

Nine sharp, I got to the office. My assistant came in behind me with a stack of files. I didn't take in a word.

I stared at nothing. [He's got a therapy appointment after his meeting today. FL's about to show up, right?] [Wasn't the divorce supposed to hit the day the company goes public?

Do the math, it's soon.] My pen dropped on the desk. Small thud. I came back to myself. My assistant jumped. "Everything okay?" "Keep going." After she left I opened my laptop.

I stared at a pitch deck all morning. Then she knocked and said the boss's husband was here. He stood in the doorway with a bakery box.

Light gray shirt, sleeves rolled to the forearm. Sun poured in behind him and turned his lashes pale gold. "Passed that place you like.

Grabbed one." His office is on the north side.

That bakery is on the south side. "Did you eat?" "Not yet." "Now, then?" He sat down across from me and opened the box like it was nothing. [He just came from the FL.

She gets his childhood trauma. Then he turns around and brings the villainess cake. Guilty conscience much?] I looked at the slice of Black Forest in front of me.

My fork hung in the air. "Why aren't you eating?" He looked up. His eyes were bright. I wanted to ask whether he hated being touched. If he did, platonic was fine with me.

Another line went by overhead. [OH. His company's project is short on cash. He's here to hit her up.] [I thought he hated using her money?] [He did.

But now he's in a hurry to run off with the FL, so he needs cash to stand on his own.] I stopped. Three seconds of looking at him. Then I set the fork down and smiled. "Adrian.

You came here today because you need something. Right?" His lashes flickered. "…Just. Bringing you cake." "And?" "…There's a project at my company.

We've got a cash flow problem." His voice dropped. "Baby, could you wire me two million." I couldn't name what went through me right then. Something bitter. Something hollow.

The comments lined up over his head in one neat row. [Wire the money. Go public. Divorce.] [Three steps. Step one just started.] Chapter 4 I was quiet for a bit, then nodded. "Sure.

I'll give you your paycheck card back when we get home." He froze. "…What paycheck card?" "Yours. You need money, right? What's built up on it these last few years should cover it.

Take it back and move it around however you want." The first month after he moved in he'd pushed that card at me and said I should handle the household money.

Every dollar he earned since had landed on it. The PIN is his birthday. I never touched it once. His brows drew in, slowly. "Why are you giving me the card?

If you need to get me money you can just wire it." [No but seriously, if you're short on cash, the card is exactly what you'd want back?] [Maybe he's… embarrassed?] [Stop reaching, it doesn't reach.

He's broke, not stupid. If he's really that desperate to run off with the FL, he takes the card.] Me: "Aren't you short on cash?

There's enough on it to hold you over." "If I need money you wire it." A little urgency got into his voice. "Why are you giving it back?" He was watching me, eyes dark and level. "Are you keeping something from me?" I let a beat pass. "…No." "Then why the card, all of a sudden?" "You hold the money.

Saves you having to come ask me again." "…Okay. I'll give it back when I'm done." [Dying, he plays dumb so well. His own money's pocket change.

Hers is the real prize.] A pale blue comment came drifting through, slower than the rest, much fainter than the ones around it. [I don't know if he's playing dumb or not.

I just want to ask one thing.

Has it occurred to any of you that maybe the male lead is actually in love with the villainess?] The next second seven or eight bright red lines shoved in on top of it and buried it. [Shut up.] [Did you write the source book?] [OP is stirring the pot.

Reported.] I looked at the spot where the pale blue had been scattered. Two seconds. I didn't get it. That night I held the card out to him.

Adrian was against the headboard with a book. He didn't take it. He looked up. "You actually want to give me this?" "Yeah.

You need it." I set the card on the nightstand. "PIN's your birthday." He looked at the card for two seconds, then caught my wrist and pulled me toward his side of the bed.

I lost my balance and braced on his chest. He tipped his face up. His lips touched the corner of my mouth, very light. Every time I gave him spending money, he kissed me like that.

Tonight he held it longer than usual. The tip of his tongue came out and I turned my head away. His mouth grazed the corner of mine and landed on air. Adrian stopped.

He held his face up like that for several seconds. Then he let go of my wrist and sat up straight.

His voice came out low, like he was pressing down on something. "…You're dodging me?" I didn't answer. He pressed his lips together. "Baby, what's going on with you lately?

You dodged me last night too." What was I supposed to say. That I could see words insulting me. That I knew he'd been swallowing his disgust to be with me.

That this marriage was a mistake from the start. I closed my eyes. Something in my head was pulled about as far as it would go. "Honey.

Maybe we should just keep things platonic." "You've never really been into that side of it. I pushed you too hard before. From now on we keep it clean.

That's fine too." I watched his face change. Like somebody had emptied a bucket of cold water over his head. He started to swallow and stopped.

He never said anything. [He's got to be over the moon. The villainess offers platonic herself. No more acting.] [No more clocking in as the household appliance.

Rejoice.] […Does he look happy to you?] [Why wouldn't he? Silence is agreement.

With his manners was he supposed to applaud on the spot?] Something turned over in my chest and I pushed it back down.

On my way to turn off the light, I glanced at the book in his hands. Still the page it was on when I walked in.

Chapter 5 I leaned over and put a very light kiss on his forehead. "Get some sleep." Then I got up, pulled a thin blanket out of the closet, and carried it out.

His voice came from behind me. "…Where are you going?" "Guest room. We're sleeping separately tonight." Nothing behind me after that. At the door I looked back once.

His head was down. I couldn't read anything on him. Right as the door closed, through the gap, Adrian looked up. The light broke into small pieces in his eyes.

Something wet moved across them. His mouth shaped a word. No sound came out. I leaned against the guest room door with my heartbeat pushing at my eardrums.

That shape his mouth made… It looked like: "Don't go." [He's in there laughing right now, guaranteed.] [Won't dare do it out loud though.] [Villainess finally did one decent thing.

Late, but still.] [Bet you anything he goes and tells the FL the good news tomorrow.] I took a breath and threw the blanket on the bed.

I don't know how long it took, but the comments started thinning out. One, then another, then a long gap before the next.

The letters were fainter than before, too. [Speaking of which, when do they actually get divorced…] The last one drifted past and the ceiling was clean.

I stared at the blank space for a long few seconds. Since the day I started seeing them, any contact between me and Adrian made them multiply.

And the more of them there were, the easier I was to steer. No. I shouldn't trust text that showed up out of nowhere over the man I married.

Eyes shut, I walked back through the last two days from the beginning. I was going to go tell Adrian everything. My foot touched the floor and my knee gave.

Something pressed down on all of me at once. A line of red seeped into the air in front of me. [Please adhere to the story's mainline. Deviation is not permitted.] I blinked.

It stayed. It didn't drift off like the others. I tried to lift my foot. My feet had taken root in the floor. Nothing moved. [Character attempting to alter plot trajectory.

Forcedcorrection mode engaged.] Cold sweat came out across my back. A small sound from the bedroom. Footsteps, coming toward the guest room. Adrian knocked. "…Baby?

Can we talk?" My mouth opened. Nothing came out. [Initiate divorce with the male lead.] The handle turned