I Served Her Lover’s Father

After Lauren was promoted to Chief of Rail Operations, her schedule became a black hole that swallowed our marriage. In three years, I’d seen her exactly twice. Both times, she’d slipped through the front door in the dead of night and vanished before the sun hit the pavement, her designer bag trailing the scent of expensive perfume and cold ambition. When my father-in-law fell critically ill and the bills started piling up like autumn leaves, I sent letter after letter. No reply. Desperation finally drove me to the central terminal. I needed my wife. I stood at the service counter, sliding our marriage certificate and my travel authorization through the glass partition. The clerk frowned, picking up the certificate and squinting at it as if it were a counterfeit bill. He checked his screen, then looked back at the paper, then back at me. Finally, he slid it back with a dismissive flick of his wrist.