Chapter 4: The Promise of Movement
[Autumn Lin.]
[Thank you, no need to wait for me.]
So cold, so final. I set my phone down, swallowing the urge to cry. This was marriage, I guess—two strangers under one roof.
It wasn’t until three months later that Graham sent his first message:
[Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve dinner.]
The text came out of nowhere, catching me off guard. I stared at it for a long time, unsure what he wanted. Was it an invitation, or just a notice?
Me: [Is there something I should do?]
I kept it short, not wanting to assume. My heart thudded as I waited.
[We need to go back to the old house.]
His parents’ place—full of family photos and awkward silences. I nodded to myself, already dreading it.
[Okay, do I need to bring anything?]
I tried to sound helpful, even though I knew he probably didn’t care.
A moment later, my phone chimed with a bank notification: [Chase Bank] Your account ending 730 has received $150,000.00, balance $150,123.00.
I stared at the number, shocked. I’d never seen that much in my account at once. It didn’t feel real.
Graham replied: [You decide.]
That was it. Money instead of affection, transactions instead of words. I was the project manager of our marriage, paid to keep things running. I set the phone down and tried to accept it. This was just how it was.
That’s when I realized Graham would never love me. He treated me like an employee—just wiring money to get things done. I made my peace with it. That’s how arranged marriages go sometimes.
I tried to tell myself it was enough. There were worse things than financial security. I could buy what I wanted, travel where I liked. Maybe love was overrated.
It didn’t matter if he came home or not. I could spend the money however I wanted.
The freedom felt strange at first, but I got used to it. I filled my days with shopping, yoga, coffee with acquaintances who barely knew me. It was a comfortable kind of loneliness—predictable, safe, almost soothing.