Seven Years Waiting for a Fake Marriage Chapter 1

Before Zoe Sanders leaves for a long-term research assignment based in a desert in the Southwest, she says to me, "Jared, life out there is rough. Family members aren't allowed to visit, and you need to take care of things back home. Wait for me for three years. I'll be back before you know it."

Three years become six. Six years become seven. I spend seven whole years waiting for Zoe to come home, but she never does.

We speak on the phone once every five days, and video call once a month. The only time I see her in person is during the handful of vacation days she manages to take each year.

Even then, I never complain. I'm afraid if I do, I'll become a burden to her career.

One day, I'm diagnosed with a stomach tumor. Only then, my urgent request for a special visit finally gets approved.

I travel thousands of miles, enduring the exhaustion of my weakened body, and arrive at the dormitory where Zoe lives. The person who greets me is a little boy.

"Mom, someone's here! I don't know him!"

For a second, I think I'm at the wrong place. But then, Zoe's gentle and affectionate voice rings out.

"Benny, I'm busy right now. Dad will go see who it is."

Her research assistant, Liam Parker, walks to the door. When he sees me, he freezes in shock, unable to speak for a moment.

"Jared, what are you doing here…"

I clutch my aching stomach. The last piece of hope I've been holding onto for seven years finally dies.

As it turns out, it's not that Zoe doesn't care about her family. The problem is that the family she cares about isn't ours.

* * *

Seeing that there was no movement at the front door for a long time, Zoe Sanders finally put down the documents in her hands and stepped out of the study.

The moment she saw me, she reacted exactly the same way Liam Parker had.

Stunned, she stammered, "Jared, what are you doing here all of a sudden…"

I sighed quietly and cut her off. "I'm tired. I'd like to sit down first. Do I need to take my shoes off?"

Liam finally snapped out of his shock. He hurried to the shoe cabinet and pulled out a pair of men's house slippers. They were half a size too large—his size.

I said nothing. I slipped them on and walked into the living room to sit on the couch.

Liam took Benjamin Parker's hand and forced a smile. "Jared, you and Zoe should talk."

Then, turning to the boy, he said, "Come on, Benny. I'll take you back to your room. Let's not interrupt Mom while she's talking to her guest."

I lifted my eyes and glanced at him.

He froze. Only then did he seem to realize there was something wrong with what he'd just said.

"Jared, don't misunderstand. Benny is—"

Zoe jumped to her feet, positioning herself in front of Liam and Benjamin. She looked at me cautiously and explained, "Jared, Benny is Liam's son from his previous marriage. We were worried he'd get picked on at school because he didn't have a mother, so we had him call me 'Mom.' Liam and I are really just coworkers."

I didn't respond. Instead, I reached over and gently ruffled Benjamin's hair.

Then, I looked at Liam and said, "Don't bother offering anything. Get the child settled, then come back. My conversation with Zoe inevitably involves you too."

Liam clearly hadn't expected that reaction from me.

I sat back down on the couch. Zoe took the seat across from me. Neither of us spoke for a while. She simply stared at me, puzzled.

Perhaps she was surprised by how calm I was.

Truthfully, there was nothing surprising about it. Seven years was more than enough time to completely drain a person. All my grievance, anger, and resentment had long since been worn away.

The male voice that often appeared in our phone calls. The men's pajamas I'd occasionally catch hanging in the background during video chats. The annual vacations that were suddenly cut short because of "emergencies".

I wasn't stupid. The only reason I'd kept pretending not to notice was that I wanted closure for these seven years of marriage.

Eventually, Liam returned. He plopped down right beside Zoe naturally.

Watching that, I knew that I was the outsider in this home.

Zoe spoke first. "I'm sorry, Jared. I overreacted earlier. Please don't take it personally. I was just surprised. If you were coming, why didn't you tell me? I would've picked you up from the station."

As she spoke, she reached for my hand.

I pulled away. Lowering my gaze, I let out a bitter laugh. Then, I took a stack of documents out of my bag. On the very top was a thick file of every request I'd submitted over the past seven years. Every single one had been stamped "Denied" in bright red ink.

The reason listed read, "Rejected by Zoe Sanders."

"If I hadn't gone directly to your supervisors myself, I never would've known that you were the one rejecting all my requests. If I'd told you I was coming, would you have let me?"

Zoe glanced at the papers and immediately looked away. Guilt flashed across her face.

"Jared, back then, we were in critical phases of the project. I couldn't afford distractions. That was why—"

"You've been busy for seven years. Yet somehow, you had time to attend your coworker's son's sports day and summer camp. But you didn't have time to let your own husband come see you?"

Zoe froze.

I pointed toward a framed photograph beneath the television.

"The date on that photograph says March 7th of this year. I remember that day. I called you. I told you I'd been in a car accident a few days earlier. I almost died in the ICU.

"And you told me that you were too busy with a project and couldn't leave. You told me to stay strong and handle it myself. So, that project was actually your coworker's son's sports day?"

Zoe lowered her hand, her fingers clenching unconsciously.

Beside her, Liam hurried to defend her. "Jared, you've got it all wrong. It really was a critical period of our project. Zoe only took a little time off to accompany Benny."

I hummed in response. I looked at the two of them sitting close together, staring at me like I was a threat, as though I were some villain trying to destroy their family. I found it absurd.

I asked myself, "Jared York, is this the home you've waited seven years for?"

I couldn't answer.

I removed the stack of rejected applications. I took out two documents from beneath them and laid them side by side. One was a medical report of my stomach tumor diagnosis. The other was a divorce agreement.

"Relax. I'm not here to accuse anyone. At this point, arguing about the past is meaningless. Zoe, I've been diagnosed with a stomach tumor. You, as my… Forget it. None of that matters anymore. I'm not here to beg for sympathy. I'm here to divorce you."