he told me—his real wife—that he had urgent work and needed to step out. He left in a rush, dressed up and clearly excited. He came back around 5 a.m., furious and exhausted after wasting hours and spending a ridiculous amount on a cab ride to meet someone who never showed. What he found,
instead was his suitcase waiting by the door. We’re getting divorced. No long explanations, no drawn-out drama. He made his choices, and now he can live with them. That’s the end of it.