The Marriage Clause

"Right there, yes, just like that."

I froze in the doorway.

The woman's voice was breathy and high pitched. She was on my bed. Her dark hair was spread across my pillow like she owned it. The red dress I did not recognize was pooled on the floor next to heels that probably cost more than my rent. Her lipstick was smeared across her mouth and down her neck.

Kelvin was on top of her.

His hands were in her hair. His mouth was on her throat. The sheets I had washed three days ago were tangled around their legs.

He looked up.

Our eyes met.

He did not stop. Did not scramble away. Did not even look surprised. He just stared at me for a long second before slowly pulling back and sitting up on the edge of the bed.

"Freya." His voice was flat. Calm. Like I had just walked in on him watching television instead of screwing another woman in our bed.

The woman turned her head to look at me. She did not cover herself. Did not grab for clothes. She just propped herself up on one elbow and watched me with lazy brown eyes.

"You should have called," Kelvin said.

My brain could not process the words. Could not make sense of what he just said. I stood there with my keys still in my hand and my work bag still on my shoulder.

"Called?" The word came out quiet.

"Yeah. You usually work late on Thursdays."

The woman laughed. The sound made my skin crawl.

"Are you serious right now?" My voice was steadier than my hands. My hands were shaking so badly I had to shove them in my pockets.

Kelvin stood up and grabbed his boxers from the floor. He pulled them on without any hurry. Without any shame. "Look, Freya. We need to talk."

"You think?"

He ran a hand through his messy hair. The same hair I used to run my fingers through when we watched movies on this couch. The same hair I had washed when he was too drunk to stand up straight last month. Now I wanted to rip it out of his skull.

"This was going to happen eventually," he said. "You and me. We were not working out."

The floor felt unsteady under my feet. "So you decided to fix it by bringing someone else into our bed?"

"I am getting married."

The words did not make sense. I heard them but they felt like they were in a different language. "What?"

"Next Saturday. I am getting married."

The woman sat up straighter. She looked at Kelvin with wide eyes. "You did not tell her yet?"

"I was going to," he snapped at her without looking away from me.

My chest was tight. Too tight. Like someone was squeezing all the air out of my lungs. "Married to who?"

"Vanessa. Our families arranged it."

"Arranged." I said the word slowly. Testing it. Trying to make it make sense. "People do not arrange marriages anymore."

"My family does. It has been planned for a while."

"How long is a while?"

He shrugged. Actually shrugged. "Few months."

Few months. He had known for months that he was getting married and said nothing. He kept sleeping next to me. Kept asking me to cover his half of the rent when he was short on cash. Kept making plans for next semester like we had a future.

Something cracked inside my chest. Not broke. Not yet. Just cracked enough to let the anger start seeping through.

"Get out."

Kelvin blinked. "What?"

"Get out of my apartment." My voice was quiet but sharp. "Both of you."

He laughed. It was not a real laugh. It was the sound he made when he thought I was being ridiculous. "Your apartment? I pay half the rent, Freya."

"Not anymore. You have ten minutes to get dressed and leave before I call the cops."

"And tell them what? I did not break any laws."

"Then I will throw every single piece of your stuff out the window. You can pick it up off the street. Your choice."

The woman finally moved. She slid off the bed and started grabbing her clothes from the floor. She would not look at me while she dressed. Her hands were shaking just a little.

Good.

Kelvin watched her for a second before turning back to me. "You are overreacting."

"And you just told me you are marrying someone else in six days after I caught you in bed with a third person. Get out before I do something we both regret."

He stared at me. His jaw was tight. His eyes were hard. This was the look he got when he did not get his way. When his team lost a game. When his friends canceled plans. When things did not go exactly how he wanted.

I stared back and did not blink.

He grabbed his jeans from the chair by the window and yanked them on. The woman was already dressed. She stood by the bedroom door with her arms crossed over her chest like she was cold.

"This is not over," Kelvin said as he pushed past me into the hallway.

"Yes it is."

He stopped at the front door and turned around. His face was red now. Angry. "I will come back tomorrow for my stuff."

"I will leave it in the hallway."

"Freya, come on..."

"Get out."

The woman slipped past me and hurried to the door. Kelvin gave me one last look before following her out. The door slammed hard enough to rattle the frame.

I stood in the bedroom doorway and looked at the mess. The sheets were half on the floor. Her perfume was everywhere. Sweet and thick and wrong. The whole room smelled like her.

I walked to the bed and stripped the sheets off in one pull. Threw them on the floor. Grabbed the pillows and threw those too. I wanted to burn everything. Wanted to scrub the whole apartment down until there was no trace of him left.

But I just stood there in the middle of the room with my chest still too tight and my hands still shaking.

I waited to cry.

Nothing came.

I felt hollow instead. Empty. Like someone had reached inside and scooped out everything that mattered and left me with nothing but air and anger.